


The Scars Within Us

by Purpleskye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 80,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28026777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleskye/pseuds/Purpleskye
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy- lifelong enemies or two people who are more alike than they realise? Returning to Hogwarts to complete their final year, everyone has their demons that they are trying to put behind them.  When Hermione and Draco end up serving detention together, they may just discover than the only person who can help them to heal, is the last person in the world they would have ever expected.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 229
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1- Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I had previously posted this story (titled Scars) up to about Chapter 16, but based I wasn’t happy with it and based on some of the feedback I wasn’t happy with the way I’d written some of the characters, so I’ve done a lot of editing and I’m having another go. I would really appreciate any feedback, so please comment, kudos or bookmark.  
> If you’re finding this story again then I hope you enjoy the changes I’ve made and think it’s approved and if it’s your first time reading then I hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I hid myself away in my bedroom or walked and walked and walked until I was truly as alone as I felt.

Chapter 1- Alone

I dreamt that I was there again. At Hogwarts. Just like so many times before. It wasn’t every night. No, that would have been too easy. If it was every night then at least I would have expected them. I could have prepared. It was their randomness that I found the hardest. Never knowing what would happen when I closed my eyes. Would I have pleasant dreams of happier times, of a happier future? Or would I be forced to relive the horrors of my past? To see all the mistakes that I had made on a constant repeated loop, waking to the knowledge that I could never go back and change them. Going back in time so I could take a few extra classes was apparently a worthy cause. Going back in time to save innocent lives apparently wasn’t. It wasn’t worth the risk I’d been told. One small mistake and we could annihilate everyone. Those fifty lives were seen as an acceptable, if unfortunate loss compared to what could have been. Yet each of those fifty lives and the hundreds more that had came before them weighed heavily on my conscious, haunting my days as well as my nights.

It’s strange what your mind does to you. The things that you remember afterwards. I would swear that I could remember every single moment of that day. But my dreams would always come in flashes, in small segments of moments pieced together in a way that I knew wasn’t reality. I remembered the feel of rubble, of stones and of glass as it hit and scratched and scraped my body. I remembered seeing Harry dead. I remembered the faces of people I didn’t even know, their eyes staring wide in surprise and their mouths open, trying to cast the spell that could have saved their lives if they had been one moment quicker. I remembered strange flashes of colour. Colourful sparks of hexes and jinxes as they flew through the air like a brilliant firework display on Bonfire Night. I remembered a purple top, a blue pair of eyes, yellow robes. But the colour that stood out most was red. It was strange really, because the killing curse doesn’t make people bleed; it doesn’t slice them open and yet that was the colour that I remembered most. From a thin trickle of blood from an open mouth, a graze on an arm, to the pools of blood seeping out from under stiff white sheets. 

Unpleasant as it was, I could deal with those dreams, those memories. It was the twisted dreams that were the hardest to take. The ones where Harry didn’t survive. The ones where Bellatrix would find me and finish what she had started. The ones where Tonks, Professor Lupin and Fred would stand before me, eyes vacant, fingers pointed at me, all asking why? Why didn’t we save them?

Waking up it would always take a minute or two for the adrenaline to fade; to remember that the war was over and that I was safe. Safe and yet completely alone.

The summer had been long. Long and hot. The sweltering heat pressing in all around like the bars of a prison. Inescapable. Oppressive. Some days I would lie in bed all day and just stare at the ceiling, watching as the dim grey light changed to bright yellow before turning a dusky orange before eventually fading to black. Other days I feel the overwhelming need to be free, so I would walk. I would walk past my parents and out of the front door and just keep going. They didn’t care where I went. Not anymore. I would walk and walk and walk until my feet ached and my legs felt heavy and the tiredness quieted the thoughts that continued to torment me.

In the beginning I’d gone to the park. It was just around the corner to my home. My parents used to take me there as a child. Not for long though. They always had something more important to do. Work to be getting on with. But at the time I had cherished those moments. Those moments when we had been together. When I had felt happy. 

At the beginning of the summer I had sat in that park and I had watched. I watched children running around with brothers and sisters. Laughing and joking. Mums and dads would hover protectively, watching closely for anything that might be too dangerous. Occasionally they would stand up and push their child on a swing, smiling as they laughed and shrieked and begged to go higher. I wanted to think that my parents had done that for me, but I couldn’t remember it even if they had. Teenage boys would play football, setting up makeshift goals at either end of the long stretch of browning grass. It seemed to be obligatory to have to take their tops off on warm days which would inevitably lead to groups of girls. Some would stand and shamelessly watch, wolf- whistling and cat-calling. Others would walk in circles, their arms linked, flicking their hair and shooting hopeful glances at the boys, trying to get their attention. It all seemed so normal, so mundane. Like life as they knew it hadn’t nearly just ended. Like people all over the country hadn’t been murdered and slaughtered and tortured simply because of the blood that ran through their veins. All of those happy and smiling faces would have been the first to go. A flick of a wand and flash of green if they were one of the lucky ones. Something much worse if they weren’t.

I wanted to hate them for it. For their happiness. For how oblivious they were. But they didn’t know. How could they? All that they knew was that there had been a terrible winter that had stretched long into the spring. Freak storms, buildings collapsing, random fires, unexplained disappearances. No one could ever remember such a run of bad luck. But then one day in May the sun had simply come out and life went on as normal.

It wasn’t because I envied them their uncomplicated lives that I actively avoided the park. It wasn’t even because they were living in ignorant bliss. It was because they were happy and carefree and every time I saw it, I was cruelly reminded of just how much I wasn’t. Every time I saw a couple holding hands, a mother with her children, two friends laughing and sharing a joke together, I felt like a knife to the gut. That horrible feeling of loneliness. There is nothing in the world that makes you feel quite so alone as being surrounded by happy people while you sit on the fringes looking on, completely unnoticed. So, I hid myself away in my bedroom or walked and walked and walked until I was truly as alone as I felt.

Today however was not a day for walking. Today was a day for lying on my bed, listening to my alarm clock counting down the seconds until my confinement could end. Admittedly it was a confinement of my own making, but it wasn’t like I had many other options. Ron had made that perfectly clear to me. I felt that familiar twinge of hurt, that I forced myself to push down. People had died. Families had been destroyed. I was not going to sit crying and complaining because a boy had kissed me and then promptly forgot that I even existed.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed myself off of my bed and picked up my wand from the bed side table where I had left it while I slept, always within arm’s reach. Twirling it through my fingers I felt the comfort wash through me; the familiar feeling of safety and power flow through my veins. The truth was I did envy the people who could carry on with their lives. My life had been so up and down lately that I didn’t know how to be normal. How to go from fearing for my life every minute of every day, fearing for the lives of my friends, for people that I loved and knowing that if I wasn’t good enough then hundreds of people would die, to being like those girls in the park, whose only concern was if boys noticed them.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what my life would have been like if I hadn’t gone to Hogwarts? Would I be surrounded by friends, would I be carefree and happy and loved? Would my parents still be talking to me? Would I be able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming?

I began pacing up and down the room as I desperately tried to think of something to do; anything that would help me to forget about things for even a couple of minutes.

Walking around my room, my eyes fell onto the large brown trunk that lay in the corner of my room. I sighed as I moved towards it, bending down to open the large heavy lid, resting it against the wall with a heavy thud. Once again I examined all of the things that I would need for the following year. I knew perfectly well by now that I had already packed everything that I needed and the reason that I knew this was because I had already packed and re-packed my trunk eight different times already.

I didn’t know why, but every time I packed my trunk, I never seemed quite satisfied with the way it was organised. It all looked wrong. It all felt wrong. I tried repositioning everything so many times, but it never felt right. For some reason needed it to be perfect. Part of me felt like was going crazy. What did it even matter what my trunk looked like? It was all going to be unpacked in a few days anyway. But of course the logical voice inside of me yelled at me from the back of my mind, the very real and very obvious reason why was never satisfied with my packing, but I forced that voice away. Forced it to stay quiet and hidden in some dark recess at the back of my brain. I couldn’t allow myself to think that way. I couldn’t let that thought enter my head so I pushed it away. I would not become afraid of Hogwarts. I couldn’t. It was Hogwarts. It had been my home for six years. Hogwarts was where could be happy. It had to be. If I could get back to Hogwarts then maybe everything could go back to normal. I could escape from the prison that I had created in my own home. Hogwarts would take me back to safety, comfort, friends.

Yet that voice, that logical voice that I was trying not to listen, was laughing, mocking my naivety. Because too much had happened in the last year. Hogwarts was the setting for my nightmares. How could I ever hope to be happy there?


	2. Chapter 2- Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I closed my eyes and forced myself to clear my mind. Feeling that familiar pull in my middle, I felt my body constrict and twist, a rushing sound filling my ears, as I left my family for possibly the final time.

Chapter 2- Goodbyes

For weeks I had been dreading this moment and yet simultaneously counting down the days. I wanted to leave this place, yet was the alternative any better? Did I really want to go back to Hogwarts? Would it really be any better than the state of limbo that I found myself in? 

As I lay in bed I could hear the movements of my parents downstairs. I could hear the sounds of cupboards closing, of spoons scraping and coffee mugs banging on the worktop. I glanced over to my alarm clock. They would be leaving for work soon. It had taken them both a while to find jobs again once I had brought them home from Australia. They had spent their entire lives building up their own dental practice, but that was all gone now. My fault of course. Now they were working for other people, working apart and working jobs that they hated. Again, all my fault. 

With a sigh, I forced myself to get out of bed. My parents were still in the kitchen when I got downstairs, both dressed and ready for work. They would be leaving soon. In barely ten minutes time. If I was hoping for a declaration of feelings, for some show of forgiveness then it would have to happen soon. My parents both barely acknowledged my entrance to the room, my mum giving me a tight-lipped smile and my dad giving me a slight nod as he continued to sip at the coffee mug in his hand. After a minute of silence, I busied myself by going to fridge and getting some orange juice. Anything to fill in the tense and awkward silence.

It wasn’t that we weren’t talking. We did. We just didn’t say anything. We ate dinner together most nights. Not because we wanted to. Not because it was pleasurable for any of us, but more because it was something that we had always done. No matter how busy my parents had been, they had always insisted that he had sat down to eat dinner together. To at least spend some quality time together where we could catch up with each other and share about our days. Now it felt like more of a chore, something that we felt we had to. We had to at least pretend to want to be here, to be a happy family, even though we all knew how untrue it was. On more than one occasion my dad would call my mum ‘Monica’ and she would answer immediately, as if for that moment they had both completely forgotten who they were. That was until they saw me sitting beside them. Their faces would twist with confusion, then their eyes would light with realisation before their faces would fall. They tried to hide it, but I saw it anyway. Every time I would just swallow that tight hot ball of grief that was lodged into my throat and force myself to give them a small smile to tell them that it was okay, because again, I knew that it was my fault that things were this way. Eventually dinner became a silent affair full of awkward glances and held tongues, that was just painful for everyone.

When my mum had finished putting all of her used dishes in the dishwasher and my dad had drained the last of his coffee, rinsing it in the sink before doing the same, I saw them share a brief glance. One that I pretended not to see, because I suddenly knew what was coming. 

My mum closed the door and seemed to brace herself before she looked at me. I could see that the smile around her lips was tight and strained. Forced. ‘Are you all ready then? Everything packed?’

‘Yep, it’s all done.’ I returned her forced smile, with one of my own. ‘I finished it yesterday.’

She nodded thoughtfully, as if I had just given her a particularly fascinating piece of information. ‘And you’re going to stay with that family again? The Weasleys.’ 

There was something in her voice when she said The Weasley’s name, but I just ignored it. I knew she didn’t entirely approve of the wizarding family who so regularly welcomed me into their home. They had only met once or twice, usually when they picked me up from Kings Cross at the end of term, but I had always noticed the slight twinge of judgement from my parents. At first, I thought it was just apprehension at meeting magical folk, but as time when on I realised it was something more. My mother was a professional woman. She loved her job. She’d worked hard for it. Both of my parents had been Oxford graduates. It was where they met. Mrs Weasley, stay at home mum with her seven children and her chaotic life and her hand- knitted clothes was just about as far from my mother’s perfectly put together appearance as it was possible to be. My mother wasn’t a snob, or one of those woman who always looked pristine with perfectly coifed hair and designer clothes. She liked camping, she went skiing but she still cared about appearances, she liked people who worked hard, who were ambitious. I couldn't help the feeling that they were not a family that she wanted to be associated with. 

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I’m staying with them tonight and then we’ll get the train to Hogwarts tomorrow.’

They nodded again but stayed silent. I thought I saw a look pass across their faces. Almost as if they wanted to say something. But as the silence continued, I thought that perhaps I had just imagined it. 

‘Well we need to leave for work now.’ They shared another awkward glance, before my dad asked, ‘Do you have everything you need?’

I found myself nodding to each of them even though it was a lie. I didn’t have everything I needed. My parents and I had never had the easiest of relationships. It wasn’t until I saw the Weasley’s big, loud and happy family that I realised what I had been missing out on for so long. But in spite of that, they were still my parents. I still needed them, I wanted them to tell me that everything was fine. That they forgave me. I wanted to know if they still loved me. But my family didn’t do grand declarations of feelings. Real feelings might take off the sheen of the perfect family image. It was much better to keep everything bottled up than to ever admit that something might be wrong. 

‘No, I’m fine. I have everything I need.’ 

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Well there’s some money there,’ he gestured to an envelope sitting on the worktop. ‘It should be enough for the year. If you need more, then you can let us know.’ 

‘Thanks,’ I found myself muttering, awkwardly. I had barely spoken to them all summer. It felt strange to be taking their money, but if I wanted to buy new school supplies at Hogsmeade then I didn’t have a choice. 

‘Right, he said, again, moving towards me. ‘Well have a nice year.’ He opened his arms and awkwardly wrapped them around me. I’d barely had time to lean into him, to enjoy the comforting feeling of being in my arms before they were gone. My mums hug was just as brief, just as lacking. As she pulled back she dropped a hasty kiss to my cheek. 

‘Well, we’d better be off. We don’t want to be late for work.’

In a quick flurry of movement, jackets were put on, bags were put on shoulders and car keys were picked up. Before I could make myself move, to say something to them, to try to get them to stay, to understand why I’d done what I’d done, there was another quick round of ‘goodbyes’ before the door was closed and I was left standing in the silent kitchen alone. 

I stood in the kitchen for a long time, just staring at the door. I don’t know what I was waiting for. If I was hoping that they would come back and tell me that everything was fine. Even just to say that they had would miss me. That they loved me. It took a noise from outside, a car speeding down the street, to finally snap me out of it and make me move. 

I had to be at The Burrow for around lunchtime, so I had plenty of time. I had some breakfast and then tidied up the kitchen, before I went to the bathroom and went for a shower. The water was scalding but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it down. The pain was a welcome release. I focused on the feel of the water as it hit my skin, feeling like a thousand sharp needles pricking and stabbing at my skin. It was a welcome distraction from the swirling back hole of emptiness that was raging inside me. 

Once my hair was washed, I turned off the water and stood there, leaning my head against the cold, hard tiles. It didn’t take long for the cold to seep its way through my limbs and travelling through my veins. Before long I started shivering. My lip started trembling as I struggled to keep everything inside, where I had kept it locked away all summer, but I couldn’t. It had become too much, too large; my parents rejection making it swell so that it became uncontainable. As soon as my lips parted, taking in a shaking gasp, it all broke free. I slid down the wall of the shower hugged my knees to my chest. The sobs were loud and choking making it difficult to breathe. My tears were streaming down my face, mixing with the water dripping from my wet hair. 

I don’t know how long I sat there for, just watching the water drip from my body, snaking its way across the white basin and disappearing down the drain, taking my tears away with it. It wasn’t until my skin had dried and my hair had nearly dried along with it that I finally forced myself to move. My hair was hard enough to keep under control at the best of times, never mind when I hadn’t even combed it through. 

I wrapped a towel around myself and went through to my bedroom and sat on my bed. Usually crying was a good release for me. Usually it was cathartic, but I felt just as numb now as I did before. I looked up and saw my reflection staring back at me from my dressing table. My puffy red eyes stood out on my pale face. My hair was hanging low on my back in a mass of tangled curls. I reached forward for my comb and set about the mammoth task of drying to detangle them. I really should have got my hair cut over the summer. Absently I thought back to when my last haircut had been. It had probably been just before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, over a year ago. No wonder it was so long now. Oh well, I sighed. It was too late now. 

Once I had gotten out all of the knots and tangles, I put some hair serum through it, although I wasn’t sure why I bothered. It didn’t actually make a difference anyway. I finished off drying it with my hair dryer before I twisted it into a messy bun, leaving a few shorter strands hanging down at the front. 

Despite it being a fairly warm day, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I couldn’t wear t-shirts anymore. It was something else she had taken from me. I pushed my sleeve up and looked at the raised skin. I actively tried not to look at it. Every time that I did I wanted to claw and scratch at it and get it off of me. But there was nothing I could do. I’d already tried everything that I could think of. I’d tried healing charms, potions, creams, lotions, but none of it even diminished the vivid red words standing out clearly against the pale skin of my arm. I’d gotten so desperate I’d even tried a knife, tried to slice it off. Tried to score through the word that had haunted me for years, yet to my immense disappointment that hadn’t worked either. The skin had healed around it and I began to suspect that it was deliberate. Her last vindictive punishment, knowing that she had cursed me with this word for the rest of my life, to be haunted and marked as simply that one cruel word. 

I pulled the sleeve back down, feeling instantly calmer now that it was hidden. It was getting too easy these days to just push my emotions down, to keep them compartmentalised and locked away. My breakdown in the shower being a minor blip. 

I tidied away my hair things, packing them into my trunk. gave my bedroom one final look, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything, even though I knew that I hadn’t. t was spotless as always. There was really nothing else to do. was packed, I was dressed and I had nothing left to stay for. Closing my trunk with a final click, dragged it out of my room and pulled it down the stairs behind me. could have levitated it, but for some reason, I wanted to do it the muggle way. 

I sat my case down in the living room and couldn’t resist having a quick look around, absorbing in all the details. I had spent so long in my bedroom, only coming out for mealtimes that I hadn’t actually spent much time in this room since I got back. I could feel the tension and awkwardness that settled in the room when I walked into it and so I had done my best to avoid it, only entering the room if I desperately had to and never staying for longer than I needed to.

Finally, I had the room all to myself and I couldn’t help but feel like I was trespassing in someone else’s house. The walls were still the same colours, the furnishings were still the same, the pictures that hung on the walls were still the same and yet the room didn’t feel familiar at all. It all felt like it belonged to someone else, except that it didn’t. It was me who had helped to paint those walls, it was me who helped to pick out the furniture and it was my school certificates that hung on the wall. I walked over to the fireplace and looked over the pictures that stood on top of the fireplace. Pictures of my mum, dad and me all together and all happy. Pictures of us camping in the Forest of Dean, on holiday in France, at a family wedding, just all smiling and happy. I reached out and picked up one of my favourite pictures, a picture of me with my mum and dad on my first day at Hogwarts. I was already dressed in my robes and full school uniform before I had even left the house. I was just a tad excited that day. I lifted my fingers and traced the smiles of my mum and dad feeling warmth spread through me at how proud and happy they looked. When I first received my letter, they had both been in total shock and we all hadn’t believed it at first. I mean, how could we? We thought it has been a joke, junk mail of some sort, but when the man from the ministry had turned up at the house and explained everything to us with a demonstration that left us all speechless, my parents had looked on at me with pride and wonder. I was a witch. I was special.

I knew that deep down was dad was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t be following in the footsteps of both my parents by going to Oxford. As a child I had been desperate to go too. I had grown up listening to my parent’s stories of their time there and they made it sound amazing and magical. But one thing that I had never told either of them was that I had no intention of being a dentist. Teeth held absolutely no interest for me, but I was still determined that I would work so hard to get to Oxford and make my parents proud.

However, once I had heard about Hogwarts and all of the amazing things that I could do there I knew that I had to go. Anyone could get into Oxford if they worked hard enough, but this was something that I had been chosen for and it made me feel so special. I immediately told my parents that I wanted to go and even though they were both apprehensive about sending me away to a school in a world that they knew nothing about, eventually they both agreed. I wasn’t a spoiled child, but I was very determined, and my parents would not deny me something that I wanted so badly, especially when I written a full five pages of argument with reasons why they should let me go.

My eyes fell on the picture of the young girl that stood in between my parents. She looked so happy and enthusiastic and so excited at what was to come. I couldn’t help but think at how innocent she looked and how determined she had been to prove herself. I couldn’t help but smile wistfully at the person I used to be and how so very prim and proper I had been. No wonder I had earned the title book worm. My smile slowly faded as I thought of all the things that the girl in the picture still had to go through, all the horrific things that were still to come. Would she still be that enthusiastic and desperate to go if she knew what path lay before her? Would she have chosen to go if she knew what evil she would have to face and what choices she would have to make?

I sadly placed the picture frame carefully back on the fireplace making sure that I placed it in the exact space that I had picked it up from. There was no point in dwelling on the past and what have been. Everything had happened and I couldn’t change that now. I had made my choices and I was living with the consequences.

I knew how much I wanted to leave. I knew that I had to leave. To escape. To get out of this toxic atmosphere that made me feel like I was walking around with a gaping hole in my chest. I was sure that my parents felt the same. I was sure they wanted the awkward reminder of their traitorous daughter out of the way. Yet I couldn’t shake the unmistakable feeling that once I left this house, there was a very real possibility that I wouldn’t ever come back.

As the sorrow and guilt once again began to bubble up inside me, threatening to spill over I mentally shook myself, telling myself to get a grip. Today would be hard enough and there was no point in wondering about what might happen. I had done all that I could and if my parents wanted me back here then I would be there like a shot and if they didn’t, well I would deal with that if and when it came to it. I lifted my trunk once more and moved into the centre of the room.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to clear my mind. Feeling that familiar pull in my middle, I felt my body constrict and twist, a rushing sound filling my ears, as I left my family for possibly the final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, kudos or bookmark.


	3. Chapter 3- Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Ron and I are just friends, George.' ...Pehaps that's all we were ever meant to be.'

Chapter 3- Reunions

The whirring and rushing in my ears suddenly stopped and I felt my feet firmly hit the ground. Dizziness and nausea unexpectedly overwhelmed me for a moment. It had been a long time since I had last apparated and the sensation took me a few moments to get reacquainted with. When the feelings faded, I opened my eyes and felt my lips curve up into my first genuine smile in months. I had landed in the middle of a field that stretched as far as the eye could see, with a few soft rolling hills in the distance. It was the middle of summer and the field was full of golden crops that were growing well past my waist. In front of me, I could see the building where I had spent so many happy times. Of course, it looked a bit different to how I had remembered. The building had suffered a lot of damage in the last few years with various death eater attacks. I hadn’t seen the building since Bill and Fluer’s wedding the previous year. They had such a beautiful wedding and everyone was having a brilliant time. That was until the death eaters showed up and damaged large parts of the house, again. The Weasley’s had been repairing it ever since.

The building that I had known had been several stories high. It had undergone many extensions and expansions throughout the years as the Weasley family had continued to grow. The house had looked a bit like a patchwork quilt full of bright colours as extra buildings and rooms has been stitched on, defying gravity as magic kept the crooked building upright.

After the building had been destroyed for the second time, the Weasley’s had set about the arduous task of once again repairing their home. The building in front of me was familiar and yet inherently different. It was straighter and more symmetrical; more normal. I immediately hated it. It just didn’t seem like The Burrow anymore and the unfamiliar sight did nothing to help ease my tension. So much had changed already, and I just needed something in my life to stay the same; to be familiar.

Deciding I had stayed too long just standing in the field, I charmed my case to hover just behind me as I made my way toward the building that was so foreign to me. It wasn’t long until the door was flung open and I could see two figures running towards me; one with jet black hair and the other with flame red hair trailing behind her.

In no time at all, Harry and Ginny reached me. Harry immediately pulled me into a tight hug, his arms firmly around my shoulders. I sank into his arms, clinging to the t-shirt at his back. I felt at home in those arms, safe and comforted. They were familiar and after so long alone, I needed it. After the events of that morning, I still felt raw and tears started to prick at my eyes as I realised that it was the first meaningful contact that I’d had in months.

Hearing the sharp inhale of my breath, Harry pulled back and looked down at me in concern. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

I forced myself to let go of the t-shirt that I had bunched in my fists, mentally giving myself a shake. I put a smile on my face and blinked back the tears. ‘I’m fine. It’s just so good to see you.’

He rolled his eyes at my soppiness, but kept his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I kept my arm wrapped around his waist, not quite ready to let him go.

‘You’ve cut your hair,’ I stated, looking up at the black tresses that were still as messy as ever, even if they were shorter.

‘Yeah, unfortunately I couldn’t use my favourite hairdresser, but I had to make do.’

I gave him a nudge with my elbow but couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Hey, I did my best. It’s surprisingly hard to cut hair.’

‘Hey, I wasn’t complaining. If not for you, I would have had to face Voldemort with a ponytail just so that I could see what I was doing.’

I burst out laughing again, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Harry looked down at me and I was glad to see that the tension and lines of worry that I had become so familiar with, were gone. In their place was sparkling carefree green eyes and a genuine smile that I hadn’t seen in years.

Ginny I greeted each other with a quick hug and then we started making our way back to the house. We easily fell into conversation with Harry and Ginny giving me an update for our plans the following day. Although I was mainly listening, it felt undeniably good to be part of an actual conversation after so many months of silence.

As we approached the house, the good mood abruptly vanished, replaced with a sense of unease and apprehension that although not unfamiliar, was unfamiliar in this situation.

I knew that Mrs Weasley would welcome me with open arms. She was like a second mother to me after all. I wasn’t afraid of her, but I was afraid of myself. I was afraid of making things worse; of saying the wrong thing.

Sensing my sudden stiffness and reluctance, Harry gave me shoulders a firm squeeze and turned to give me an encouraging smile. He would know how I was feeling. He’d have been through this himself just a few days before.

I walked into the empty kitchen and inhaled deeply, enjoying the delicious scent of mouth watering cakes. It smelled like a home.

'Hello, dear,’ I heard come from behind me. I whipped around at the familiar voice behind me and was immediately pulled into another warm hug. A pair of arms tightly wrapped around me, one hand reaching up to my head, gently stroking the back of my head. ‘Mrs Weasley, it’s so good to see you again’. Feeling so safe and secure and loved, by this woman, reminded me of my own mother. I couldn’t remember the last time that she had embraced me as warmly as this.

When she finally released me, she looked me up and down, smiling softly as she did so. ‘Hermione, dear, you look so grown up. All of you do.’ There was a sadness behind her eyes, and I knew just what she was thinking of. Mrs Weasley looked so different from the last time I saw her. She looked paler, older and thinner than I had ever seen her. There was a tiredness to her demeanour, a sadness in her eyes that was still visible even behind her smiles. As she busied herself around the kitchen preparing tea and cake for everyone, I noticed that her eyes kept darting to the clock that was on the wall, her eyes scanning around its face, checking on the status of her family. Checking that all hands were safe pointing away from mortal peril. I felt a pang in my chest as I counted the hands on the clock. Eight. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to Fred’s hand. Had they removed it; had it fallen off or had it simply disappeared forever.

I saw how Ginny eyes followed her mum carefully, offering her more food and watching to make sure that she actually ate. Ginny kept the conversation flowing, chatting about Quidditch, summer, dinner that night; anything to try and keep her mum occupied. Whenever she saw her mum’s attention waver, Ginny would throw a question at her to pull her back. I couldn’t help but admire how strong she was. How she kept her own emotions firmly pushed down, to be strong and be a support for her mother.

When there was a slight lull in the conversation, I took the opportunity to ask the question that I had been wanting to ask ever since I set foot in the house.

‘So where is everyone else? Where’s Ron? I thought he would be here,’ I asked trying to sound as casual as possible, although I couldn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes as I said it and even more annoyingly I could feel my cheeks becoming hotter, turning that tell-tale pink that would always give me away. Perfect timing as always.

‘Oh he’s at George’s store. He’s been working there over the summer, helping George out a bit,’ Ginny answered. ‘It keeps him busy.’

‘Oh right,’ I said simply, hearing the hurt in my voice seep through. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘Did Ron not tell you?’ Harry asked.

‘Nope. I haven’t really heard from him.’ I could see the surprise on Harry’s face. That he had assumed that Ron would have been writing to me just like he had. ‘You know how he is,’ I shrugged, working hard to keep my voice light and the pain from my face. Harry gave me a tight lipped smile of agreement but I could see the confused look that he shot to Ginny.

When we had finished eating, Ginny helped her mum to tidy up, whilst Harry helped me to take my trunk upstairs. Ginny’s old room had been on the first floor, but her new room was nearer to the top, so we had to climb up four flights of stairs before we got there. Harry put my trunk in the corner of the room and as I turned around to look at him, I realised that this was the first time that we had been alone since the war had ended. We stood side by side in silence, before either of us could think of a way to actually begin the conversation that was so inevitable. Harry found the right words first, pulling me down onto the bed so that I was sitting beside him.

‘So how are you? How have you been?’ he asked.

I had been writing to him most of the summer, usually a letter once a week or so, but they were generally more a recount of the things we’d up to. Mine had been somewhat abridged and embellished to try and not seem quite as pathetic as I felt. Usually I just commented about the things that he was doing. Asking how Teddy and Andromeda were. Somehow we’d always avoided talking about our past and what we’d been through. It hadn’t felt quite right putting the words down on a page. How could you sum up everything that we’d been through in just a few pages?

I thought of Harry’s question. How was I? Even I didn’t know the answer to that one. I had been trying so hard to suppress my feelings all summer that the word that came straight to mind was empty. But then I thought of Mrs Weasley just a few floors below who had lost a child. A mother who was grieving and suddenly my problems seemed very small. So in the end I settled for a rather generic, ‘I’m fine.’

Harry shot me a look, with one eyebrow raised. ‘Seriously Hermione, this is me you’re talking to. How are you really?’

I let out a long slow breath, thinking of my nightmares, of the mess I’d made of everything with my parents; of whatever the hell was happening with Ron. I tried to think of the words to explain, but even if I wanted to tell him, I wasn’t even sure of where I would begin.

Instead I continued the charade. ‘Things are fine. Honestly’, I insisted, but when his gaze remained sceptical, I tried a different tactic. Diversion and distraction. ‘So how are things with you? How’s Teddy? How are things with Ginny?’

He gave me a look, that told me knew what I doing it, but I was relieved when he went along with it anyway. ‘Teddy’s great. He’s getting so big. Everything he touches goes straight into his mouth. I’ve nearly lost a few fingers and he rather likes latching onto my nose. For no teeth, it’s surprisingly sore,’ he said, absent-mindedly giving his nose a rub.’ I laughed, somehow unable to see Harry in a paternal role. He was barely able to remember to change his socks without being reminded, never mind look after another human being. However, the adoration in his eyes, told me that he had enjoyed every single minute of it. That being around the new-born orphan, had probably helped to heal him after the horrors he had endured. I was glad he’s had that to focus on over the summer.

Before he could tell me about Ginny, the girl herself walked into the room. As she closed the door behind her, her entire body instantly slumped and a pained look appeared on her face. Harry beckoned her to him, and she sat down beside him, placing her head on his shoulder.

‘How is she?’ Harry asked, gently stroking Ginny’s hair.

‘Not good. She’s trying to be strong for us all, but she won’t ever stop. She’s always cleaning or cooking and she’s not eating or sleeping properly. I don’t know how she’ll cope when we all leave tomorrow. I’m so worried that she’ll just break down.’

Ginny started sobbing quietly into Harry’s shoulder and I could think of nothing to say to comfort her. All I could do was to sit quietly and watch as Harry held her close. Although I wasn't jealous of Ginny, I was jealous of what they both had with each other. I wanted somebody like that who would always be there and comfort me, but for me that person had been Ron.

We stayed upstairs for about another hour, until Mrs Weasley’s voice shouted up the stairs to ask for our help with dinner. Harry and I helped to set the table, whilst Ginny helped her mum with the finishing touches to dinner.

We were nearly finished, when a crackling noise behind told us that someone was coming through the Floo network. I took a deep breath as my stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation. It had been so long since I had last seen Ron. For the last year it had seemed we had been getting closer to each other. He knew that I liked him. He must have done. I hadn’t done a very good job of hiding it when he had been going out with Lavender. For a while I had thought he had been starting to like me too. So many nights we would fall asleep, her hands clasped together. He had even kissed me. And then there was just nothing. We’d all been through so much, that I was giving him some space and time, but after nearly three months of silence, I could admit that the rejection stung.

As the green flames crackled and roared to life, two tall red heads stepped out of the fire one after the other and I felt my whole body tense and stiffen as my eyes found the one that I had been waiting for all summer.

I hovered slightly at the table, not wanting to seem too eager and then pushed my stupid pride away and walked over to him smiling a little more shyly than I intended.

He stopped when he saw me and immediately lowered his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. My heart immediately dropped; he only did that when he was uncomfortable. Since when did I make him uncomfortable? We stood awkwardly in front of each other before I hesitantly put my arms out for a hug. We awkwardly put our arms around each other, but I couldn’t fail to notice how he kept a very firm distance from me, patting me on the back with the very tips of his fingers, like you would do to a dog that you were afraid of.

I pulled back, trying to keep the look of hurt and confusion out of my eyes. I pushed back the disappointment. It was fine I told myself. It was awkward here in front of everyone and he was probably just feeling unsure, nervous. I just had to give him time and everything would be fine.

I was glad when I was given the distraction of saying hi to George and I was finally able to turn away from Ron. Shortly after Mr Weasley came home and almost straight away Mrs Weasley called us all to the dinner table and so we all filed into the kitchen. We sat down at the table and I was both glad when I ended up sitting beside Ron. At least I might finally be able to get to talk to him. Even if he didn’t have feelings for me, he was still one of my best friends and I missed him.

Trying to strike up a conversation, I asked him how his summer had been, but he just mumbled ‘yeah, fine,’ before turning back to speak to Ginny on his other side.

I blinked, stunned. I swallowed deeply and stared intently at the tablecloth, trying to get rid of the stinging in my eyes. When I looked up, I caught George’s eye and was mortified to see him give me concerned glance before he looked to Ron. I plastered a smile on my face, turning to Mr. Weasley who was on my other side and spent the rest of the meal, trying to act like everything was fine, resolutely ignoring the wizard to my right.

After dinner, we moved through to the living room and I made sure that I was as far away from Ron as I could possibly be. The more he talked, laughed, joked and spoke to everyone and anyone but me, the harder it was to keep up the smile I had plastered to me face. After spending weeks wishing for friends and family, I now wanted nothing more than to be alone, so I could cry about how stupid I had been to once again believe that there was any possibility of Ron Weasley seeing me as anything other than his bookish friend.

My gaze fell onto Harry and Ginny, who were currently sitting on the couch opposite me. Harry had his arm around Ginny’s shoulder and was running his thumb back and forth along her skin in a comforting gesture. They were such a perfect match for each other. Sub consciously they would both always lean towards one another. If Ginny was walking around the room, Harry’s eyes would follow her. Harry would occasionally take Ginny’s hand in his and she would place her head on his shoulder. They were so in- sync with each other. I felt a longing inside of me to have someone beside me, to have someone look at me with that longing in their eyes.

We spent the rest of the night just talking and catching up. Despite my heart aching, it felt good to be surrounded by people again and I was more than happy to just watch and listen to everyone. It felt just like old times. Mr Weasley was busy talking to Harry about his job at the ministry and all the latest muggle inventions that he’d discovered.

‘It’s quite amazing really. Look at what it does.’ He pressed one of the buttons on the toy and watched in amazement as it lit up and made a buzzing sound. ‘I mean we wizards give muggles far too little credit.’

Harry and I exchanged a short glance, and both moved to hide our small smiles. Mr Weasley had never changed. After the war, the Ministry had offered him many promotions, but he had been more than happy to stay in his current position, where he could play with muggle objects all day. He continued on for a good ten minutes more, about the amazing toys, powered with little cylinders that contained power.

I noticed that George was sitting on the floor at the edge of the living room, just watching everyone as I was. It was odd to see him so quiet. He was usually the life and soul of the party, but I guess he was missing his partner in crime.

I shuffled over so that I was sitting beside him and asked him how he was. He shrugged his shoulders in reply and looked away from me. I knew what he must be thinking, and I could have kicked myself for asking such a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t okay. He had lost his twin brother, the other part of himself.

‘Oh George, I’m so sorry. That was a really stupid question,’ I said quietly to him, hoping that the others wouldn’t hear our conversation.

‘Don’t worry about it, Hermione,’ he said turning back towards me, although his eyes turned towards his mother. He continued to sit in silence and I thought that our conversation had finished, until he sighed deeply and continued.

‘You know sometimes she can’t even look at me,’ he said in a voice so full of pain that it broke my heart to hear it. ‘It’s like every time she sees me it’s just a reminder of Fred,’ he continued, never taking his eyes off of his mother. ‘A reminder of what happened. I don’t even know what to say to her and I don’t think she knows what to say to me. Sometimes she goes to talk to me, and I swear she was going to call me Fred. Some days I don’t even want to come home. I just stay at the shop for as long as I can. I miss him so much. I can’t believe that I’ll never speak to him again. I’m going to make our business a success for him. I’m going to make sure that I don’t let him down.’ He continued to stare off into the distance but sighed deeply as if in relief. I wondered if he had been desperate to get those things off of his chest. He had obviously been thinking about them.

I put my hand gently on his arm, trying to comfort him and let him know that I was there for him. ‘You’ve let nobody down George, least of all Fred. You’re doing amazingly well and as for your mum it will just take time. You’re both grieving. Please don’t shut yourself out of the family. You’ll only feel worse,’ I said, speaking from personal experience. I knew very well how much a person needed their family to be around them.

‘Yeah, I know. It’s just hard,’ he said, his voice cracking at the end.

‘I know but it will get easier, or so I’m told.’

We sat in silence for a while, I was half listening to the conversations going on around me, but I could tell that George was deep in thought.

Eventually I asked him how his business was going, trying to distract him from wherever his thoughts were taking him. He smiled when I asked the question and he launched into a big explanation of how Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was a huge success. He talked so animatedly and passionately about his work that for the first time, he sounded like the George that I used to know.

‘So what’s the latest in the joke world? What should I be on the look out for this year? Anymore objects that I should be wary of giving me a black eye?’

‘I’ve not really been making stuff for the joke shop,’ he shrugged. ‘Things just don’t seem so funny anymore.’ He stared into the distance before, seeming to catch himself. ‘I’ve been working on the WonderWitch line of beauty products. The pimple vanisher was selling really well, so we’re adding a few more lines. Clear skin, long lasting tan, no chip nail polish and stuff for hair, like curling and straightening cream and stuff like that. Hey, I could give you some of it.’

I turned to him with a raised eyebrow and gave him a whack on the arm. ‘Gee thanks George. Nice to know that you think I need to be using beauty products. You had better to be talking about the hair stuff and not the zit cream or I swear I’ll hex you right now,’ I laughed, only mildly offended.

His eyes had briefly looked panicked at insulting me, but upon seeing my smile, answered, ‘of course not Hermione, your skin is fine, I mean great, fantastic, the best ever, but if my hair serum can make even yours straight then I’ll know that I’ve cracked it. ’

I pondered this briefly, wondering how soon I should let him off the hook. ‘Oh well, when you put it like that’, I answered with my voice dripping with sarcasm and rolling my eyes. ‘Just so you know, for that little comment, I am expecting a large amount of products to try, on the house of course.’

‘Deal,’ he said, giving me a broad smile that I couldn’t help but return. I glanced around the room to find Ron glowering at me from across the room and my smile instantly fell. I knew George had seen it when he followed my gaze and his smile turned into a scowl. ‘My brother is an idiot.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If he can’t see what is right in front of him, if he won’t stop being a bloody coward and fight for what he wants, then he’s a bloody idiot.’

I briefly thought about trying to pretend that I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t see the point. ‘Ron and I are just friends, George,’ I said, fighting to keep the pain from my voice, because despite what I may have thought, despite what I may have wanted, perhaps that was all we were ever meant to be.

George gave me a thoughtful look before he pushed himself up and surprised me by giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘He doesn’t deserve you, Hermione. He never did. You’re far too good for him. One day he’ll look up and actually open his eyes and realise just what he’s lost out on.’

He stood up fully, said night to everyone before heading up the staircase. It wasn’t long later when we all followed him to bed, ready for an early start to go back to Hogwarts. As I was drifting off to sleep, I could just about convince myself that it couldn’t possibly be that bad. As long as we were all together, I knew that we would all be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter on Sunday.


	4. Chapter 4- Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I felt myself begin to drift off to sleep, thinking about how good it felt to be home.'

Chapter 4 - Returning

The train left promptly at 11am the following morning. Just like it did every year. Part of me felt like I was in a dream. Like I had travelled back in time to before everything had become so messed up.

I’d barely had time to process everything, to appreciate that I was going back to Hogwarts; to really get to appreciate boarding the Hogwarts Express for what I knew would definitely be the last time. And the reason I hadn’t been able to process this special moment was because we were once again running late. 

Every year was the same. You would have thought that we would have learned by now, but The Burrow had been in utter chaos once again. Even though we had been sure to get up early enough, we had still been running late, largely due to the enormous breakfast that Mrs Weasley had laid out on the table for us. Ron had, as usual slept in, and also as usual had left his packing until the very last minute. Harry had spent the morning hunting for his quidditch gloves, until I reminded him of a helpful little tool called a summoning a spell.

Despite apparating to the designated spot in King’s Cross, we were still running late and had barely made the train, luckily finding an empty carriage as people said their last goodbyes to their parents. As Ron and Ginny said a last goodbye to their mother; who was seemingly reluctant to let them go; I took a seat by the window and resolutely avoided looking at the families outside. The families hugging and kissing and crying and laughing. The families who cared. I’d only ever had that experience twice. Both in my very first years at Hogwarts. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

The four of us settled into the carriage, Ron and I on one side, Harry and Ginny on the other. Conversation inevitably went to what we had been doing over the summer. As I had very little to contribute, other than I had hidden myself away in my bedroom and resolutely avoided my parents, I pulled out a book and stared at it with avid interest.

As the familiar sights of the city gave way to the suburbs and eventually the green of the countryside, the conversation had moved onto quidditch. I turned another page, although what it was about I had no idea. I half listened as Harry, who was still the quidditch captain, talked strategy for the year and who he was hoping would join the team as the new beaters and chasers.

I was vaguely aware of people stopping outside our compartment every so often, of various faces peering in. I had just been about ready to get up and close the blind when the door slid open to welcome Neville and Luna, hand in hand. They hadn’t been there long when they were joined by Seamus and Dean, then Lavender and Parvati, and every single returning seventh year who wasn’t in Slytherin. Every time I got to my feet and gave the obligatory hugs, the smiles, the ‘how are yous?’

I managed to fake it the first time, even the second, but by the third and fourth I started to feel the clawing ball of panic scratching up my throat. It got harder and harder to maintain that smile when all I wanted to do was yell at everyone to go away and leave me alone.

I didn’t know why, it had never happened to me before but my head grew fuzzy and the hand holding my book started to tremble slightly. The skin on my face tingled and a cold sweat seeped from my pores. My heart was speeding so hard behind my ribcage I thought it might explode. My chest tightened and I struggled to breathe as I felt the walls of the compartment start to close on on me.

‘Hermione?’ I heard a voice say. My eyes searched for the voice. Harry.

I needed to get out of their. I needed air.

I shot to my feet and dropped my book beside me. I pushed through the bodies in the carriage and forced the heavy door open, sliding it along the runners.

‘Hermione. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ I gasped. ‘Just… hot. I’m going to get a drink.’

Stumbling down the corridor, until I reached the door. Shaking hands pushed up the window and I rested my head against the cool glass, welcoming the rush of air that blasted over my face, even if it was warm. I concentrated on calming my breathing, vaguely aware that I had a mild panic attack.

A few minutes later, I turned and slumped against the wall, feeling tears sting my eyes. What the hell was the matter with me? Things were meant to be fine now. Going back to Hogwarts was meant to make everything better, not infinitely worse.

I took another moment to gather myself before I decided I would need to go and get the drink that I’d told the others I was getting. I slid through the interconnecting carriage door and was turning around to open the other one when the door slid open beneath my hand and I slammed into a figure in front of me. ‘Oh sorr…’ I began, but instantly cut myself off with a gasp as I saw who I had just walked into. Draco Malfoy. The same blonde hair. The same grey eyes. The same expensive clothes. Taller perhaps than before, but that wasn’t the thing that caught my attention. Gone was the confidence, the smirk, the condescension and sneering hatred that I was used to. Instead I would swear he looked panicked and if I wasn’t mistaken, guilty.

I couldn’t have moved even if I wanted to. I could only stare up in surprise at his shocked face. But then I didn’t need to, as he suddenly blinked once and instantly recoiled, rushing back down the corridor and into one of the compartments.

I stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, bewildered, wondering what had just happened. I hadn’t even expected Draco Malfoy to be back at Hogwarts. Of all the reasons I had been worried of coming back to Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had not even made it onto my lengthy list. I had never even thought for one moment that he would come back. I was instantly angry with him. Why on Earth was he back? What was he thinking! Why would he even want to come back? He hated Hogwarts. He hated everything about Hogwarts. I could only hope his year was as utterly miserable as he had made mine in the past. It was the least he deserved.

I bought myself a bottle of pumpkin juice and made my way back to our compartment, feeling considerably calmer than when I had left. All feelings of panic had been swallowed up by the fiery ball of irritation that was Draco Malfoy.

‘Where is everyone?’ I asked when I entered the nearly empty compartment, with only Harry and Ron for occupants.

‘Ginny’s gone to see her friends and Neville and Luna went back to their own compartment, to get changed’ Harry answered. ‘Where have you been anyway? You were gone a while.’

‘Just getting a pumpkin juice’ I answered, raising my bottle as if I was presenting my evidence. ‘The trolley was up at the other end of the train.’

I sat quietly sipping on my pumpkin juice before I asked, ‘Did you know Malfoy was coming back to Hogwarts?’

Harry and Ron’s faces had completely identical reactions. Both their eyebrows shot up, their jaws dropped down leaving their mouths gaping open, before finally mustering up a completely in sync, ‘what?’ It was actually quite comical and I felt a small smile at the corner of my lips as my eyes darted between the two of them.

‘What the hell do they think they’re doing letting him back here? He’s a death eater for Merlin’s sake,’ Ron practically spat.

‘I suppose they have to let him back though. He was cleared at his trial. I mean his family did help out in the end. I would be dead if it wasn’t for his mum,’ Harry mused.

‘So what now you’re defending him?’ Ron yelled.

‘No, I’m not defending him,' Harry answered, more calm than I would have been if Ron had yelled at me. 'He’ll probably always be a jerk, but I don’t think that he was ever a true death eater. Not by choice anyway. Voldemort can be pretty forceful and I’m sure he did what he did for his family.’

I thought over Harry’s words, wondering how he could be so forgiving, after everything Malfoy had done to him in the past. I knew for certain that I never could and I had only ever received half the cruel taunts and jives that Harry had. But then Harry was a truly good person. He always saw the best in people.

Ron however was not quite so understanding. ‘Oh yeah right. Get real. We know what he’s like. I bet he loved every single minute of it.’

We sat in silence for a while after that. I looked out of the train, watching as the landscape changed from flat fields, to rolling hills and low valleys. By the time we reached the towering mountains and serene lochs, the sun hung low illuminating the sky in an orange haze. We were nearly there. As the train hurtled ever closer, I found myself thinking about our final destination. About Hogwarts. I was surprised to find that my stomach twisted uneasily. The last time we were there, it was filled with chaos, with death and destruction. So many people died and I could still picture each and every one of their faces. Every pale white sheet covering another stiff and unmoving body. It didn’t take a genius to work out that I was scared. Scared to go back. Scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle all the bad memories. Worried that I wasn’t strong enough to face it.

When the announcement came that we were approaching our destination, we quickly changed into our robes. I looked at and Ron in theirs, thinking that they looked strange. Like they were in costume. Pretending at being the children that we no longer were.

We stepped off the train, pushing our way through the crowds, watching as the new first year students looked around fearfully, unsure of where they should be going. We followed the crowds to the end of the platform and into the clearing at the edge of the wood and I gasped at the sight before me.

Where there were usually horseless carriages, there now stood large black, scaly horse- like creatures. I knew immediately what they were. I had ridden one before, even though I hadn’t been able to see it. I hadn’t seen anyone die before. Though, that was then. Now I could see them as clear as day. I stood before the creature, thinking of all the people that I had seen die reflected in its black glassy eyes. I turned my head, trying to hide my face from the others as I desperately tried to blink back my tears, when Draco Malfoy caught my attention for the second time that day.

I watched as he was looking fearfully into the eyes of the thestral that stood in front of him at the carriage beside ours. Fear. That was another new emotion for Malfoy. Who knew he now had such an emotional range? I felt a flicker of empathy as I realised that he, like so many others had seen death for the first time in the last year. However, he turned around just in time to see me staring and I wasn’t quick enough to avert my gaze. His eyes immediately narrowed and he sent me his usual sneer before turning his back on me and storming off into the carriage. Strangely I found myself smiling in response. At least that was familiar.

No one spoke much as the carriage took us up to the castle, the presence of the thestrals, the visible thestrals, put everyone in a sombre mood, bringing to the surface painful memories. It wasn’t long before the carriage pulled to a stop and we all stepped out, finding ourselves at the main entrance to the castle. I looked up at the magnificent building, perfectly restored, that seemed to be glowing under the light of the torches and the moonlight. Normally it was a sight that would have brought a smile to my face; it usually meant I was home, but I couldn’t feel that way anymore. I wasn’t sure I would ever feel that way again.

As we approached the great hall, I felt myself falter slightly. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to see that place. I looked over at Ron and saw that his face was drained of all colour. I reached down and gave his hand a small squeeze. However I was feeling this must be so much harder for him.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, I couldn’t help but look around, looking for any signs of what had taken place just a few months prior. I told myself that I wouldn’t do it but I couldn’t help myself. However it was perfect, looking exactly the same as it had, when we had first walked through those doors, eight years ago to the very day. Looking at it now, you would never have been able to tell that just four months ago, it had been a make shift morgue, with dead bodies lining the length of the hall and the sound of anguished sobs echoing throughout the stone hall. I shivered at the memories. I tried not to think about it, but I couldn’t help but think about whose body had lain where I now sat. Once again I felt my breaths become unsteady, a prickle tingled over arms and a stinging burned in my eyes, but I simply fixed my gaze to a point on the wall, staring at the blank grey stones and focused on breathing in and out.

The excited chatter that usually filled the great hall on the first day of term was somewhat muted. The older students in particular were somewhat melancholy and the younger students, the ones who had avoided the battle sensed the atmosphere and spoke in hushed whispers. Most of the older students had stayed at Hogwarts for the final battle. I imagined everyone was thinking about the horrors that they had seen and the friends who would no longer be sitting beside them. Someone who had been killed, most likely by the relative of someone sitting under the green banner of Slytherin.

A hush throughout the hall brought my attention to the front dais where Professor McGonagall now stood. She had been made the head mistress after Professor Snape was killed last year. The doors at the back of the hall flew opened and everyone’s heads turned to face the source of the noise, to see the new first years walking in, looking around nervously. I couldn’t help but note how young and innocent they looked. I reminisced back this day eight years ago, thinking of my own feelings at that time. I was so desperate to make a good impression. So nervous and worried that I wouldn’t be good enough. Spouting off facts I had memorised from books to make it seem like I belonged. Part of me envied that girl her innocence. She had no idea what was in store.

Mindlessly, we watched and applauded as the new first years were sorted into their houses, one by one. When the last child had taken their seat at the Hufflepuff table, Professor McGonagall stood up and raised her hand to indicate silence. A hush descended over the hall as she prepared to give her welcome back speech.

‘Good evening and welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. This year marks the start of a new era for Hogwarts. We have many new students this year,' she said indicating the pupils sitting in front of her, 'as well as many returning students, who have returned to complete their final exams. Although we are all looking forward to a new chapter beginning at Hogwarts, we must however remember the past.’ As she paused I found myself focusing my eyes on the table in front of me, tracing over the contours of the wood, trying to block out the words that I knew were about to follow.

‘I know for many of you that the last few months have been difficult. We have all been through the worst of times. As a school, as a community we faced our darkest day. It had been one of my proudest moments to stand alongside and fight with many of you, watching you mature and become witches and wizards that fought for justice and equality.’ She looked around the hall, meeting the eyes of various students. She took a deep breath and I could see the effort it took her to continue. ‘However the freedom that you all fought so bravely for came at a cost and each and every one of us have known the cruel sting of loss. Friends and loved ones have been taken from us far too soon and being here, at Hogwarts, will of course be difficult for us all.’

The sounds of quiet sobs and muted tears filled the silence as Professor McGonagall’s words connected with each and every person in the room. I imagined every mind was picturing the face of someone that they would no longer see. I blinked back the tears as the swell of grief sat heavily in my chest as numerous faces passed through my mind. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. Snape. Colin. Dumbledore. Dobby.

‘You have lost friends and loved ones far too soon and I know that being back here will be difficult for all of you. This building is filled with many bad memories and I have no doubt that there will be some tough times ahead, as we try and pick ourselves back up and heal our wounds. But Hogwarts, despite being our home, is just a building. It is made of bricks and mortar. It is the people inside these walls that made Hogwarts what is it. As such I expect us to all work together to help support each other through these difficult times, so that we can help to rebuild our school and move forward towards a brighter future.’

At this she gave a small pause and looked down at her feet. I imagined that this was hard for her as well and she seemed to need a moment to compose herself. The sobs continued around the hall and I felt my eyes brimming with tears that I deliberately held back. I slid my hands under the table and dug my nails into the soft flesh of my palms, hard, enjoying the painful sting as they cut into my flesh, the physical pain distracting me from my internal agony. I looked over at the other side of the table and saw that Ginny was one of those who were letting the tears flow freely. Harry had pulled her into a hug, with her head resting on his shoulder, her tears falling onto his robes.

Professor McGonagall continued with her speech, seeming to have recovered, as her voice was stronger and took on a sharper edge. ‘Our school has been divided for far too long. This is a year for change and a year for unity. The divisions of the past no longer matter and I look forward to fresh beginnings and fresh attitudes from all of you. The founders of this school worked in harmony together to build this great castle and establish Hogwarts. They were all close friends who set aside their differences in order to work together for the greater good, using each of their talents to make our school stronger. Hufflepuffs are among the most loyal and dedicated people you will find, Ravenclaws the most intelligent and wise, Gryffindors are the bravest and the most courageous and in Slytherin are the most cunning and ambitious. All of these traits are unique to your houses, but that does not make any house superior to the other. You are all brilliant in your own way, but by working together and learning from each other is when you can become great.’

She paused looking around at all of us. Giving a glance to each and every table throughout the hall. ‘Now I think that I have taken up enough of your time. I look forward to seeing each and every one of you succeed this year.’

With that she sat down, leaving the hall in a deathly silence. I looked up and down the Gryffindor table and glanced over at the Slytherins. Each table was clearly giving the other a look that said ‘don’t expect us to be working with you any time soon’. Despite Professor McGonagall’s some things unfortunately would just never change. Some wounds were just too deep to heal.

The plates of food in front of us were suddenly filled and the mood in the hall instantly lifted, the somber attitude from moments before forgotten. The last thing I felt like doing was eating, but I’d had a summer of practising, of eating in awkward situations. Of forcing the food down even when it tasted like ash in my mouth.

Throughout the meal, I found myself looking up at the ceiling, admiring the stars. They shone brightly tonight against the clear night sky. As I turned back around I was startled as I realised that half the people in the hall were staring over at us.

I whipped back around in my seat hurriedly and put my hand up at the side of my face, trying to obscure it from view. Harry looked over at my sudden movement, sensing my discomfort.

‘Everything all right, Hermione’ he asked, looking concerned at my sudden change in attitude.

I slid my eyes to the side, meeting his emerald green ones. ‘Everyone is staring at us,' I whispered, keeping my voice low. His eyebrows knotted, before he gave a quick glance over his shoulder before he whispered across the table ‘just ignore it. Trust me. It will all go away in a week or so.

I looked at him doubtingly, but pulled my hand back to my side, watching as the food cleared from the table and the desserts appeared.

After dinner, we made our way back to the common room. I watched as the prefects herded the first years up the common room, feeling slightly nostalgic as their eyes widened, taking in the glory of their surroundings. I had been a prefect before, but I had opted not to continue the role this year. Giving our house points, trying to win the house cup, it all seemed rather trivial.

We made our way up to the common room. I couldn’t help but smile as I stepped through the portrait, looking around at the familiar surroundings. I walked with Ginny up to our dorm. We would now be sharing as we were both seventh years. I had never been overly close to Lavender or Parvati, so Ginny has offered to move to our common room to keep me company which I was immensely grateful for.

Climbing into my bed, I ended up thinking about how long it had been since I had lain in this bed. It was just the same. It had the same feel, the same smell. I listened as the other girls slowly drifted to sleep, their breathing becoming more slow and heavy and as I listened to their rhythmic breathing, I felt myself begin to drift off to sleep, thinking about how good it felt to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos, bookmarks and comments are always really appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5 - Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Why do you keep looking over at Malfoy, Hermione? And why is he shooting daggers at you?'

Chapter 5- Partners

My positivity didn’t last long. As soon as we left the common room the following morning I realised just how tough this was going to be. It was an oddly bittersweet moment. On one hand I was glad to be back in the place that I considered to be home, especially after what had transpired during the long summer. It felt good to have a purpose, to have something to do; it felt good to be surrounded my friends and get back to some semblance of normality.

And yet it was all tainted. Around every corner there was the memory of another friend that had died. Another place or person that haunted my nightmares. The previous day had been tough, but at least it was over with. I was sure it was only the first of many more tough days that would follow; Fred's birthday, Christmas, the one year anniversary of the final battle to name but a few. Yet I had jumped over that first hurdle and made it back to school. Part of me was actually quite glad to be back. Hopeful that it would give me the chance to make new memories and hopefully put some of the ghosts of the last year to rest. We had been given a second chance and I was only too aware of the many people who weren't as lucky. This was an opportunity to move on and get things back to normal. Back to the way that they should be.

The journey down to breakfast on the first morning back was very similar to what had happened at dinner the night before. Nearly everyone that we walked by stopped and gawked, people whispered behind their hands and others, the less subtle, just openly talked about us. I felt my face immediately flush scarlet as I felt all the eyes boring into my back following our every movement. I dropped my eyes, trying desperately to avoid all the faces peering in my direction. I had never been one for attention, always being happier in the background of things. It had taken Viktor Krum ages to persuade me to go to the Yule Ball with him back in our fourth year, mainly because it would involve dancing in front of everyone. It was only his very sweet begging and the fact that I knew people would be looking at him more than me, made me say yes.

Unlike me, Ginny wasn’t fazed at all and kept her head held high, even trying to hold a normal conversation as we went, despite my one word answers. She must have sensed my discomfort, as she linked arms with me, dragging me alongside her as I desperately tried to ignore the peering faces and concentrate on what she was saying.

Breakfast was even worse if that was possible. In fact I think that it may have been one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life. Just as the new prefects were handing out our new timetables handed out for the following year, a blinding flash filled my entire eyes, causing me to go temporarily blind, with flashing stars filling my vision. After a few moments of rapid blinking, I finally regained my sight enough to see a small, brown haired boy standing in front of Harry, Ron, Ginny and me, holding a rather large camera.

'Merlin’s beard, he squeaked. 'I can't believe it's the golden trio. Can I have a picture with all of you, please? Can I have your autographs?'

I immediately flushed red again and lowered my gaze out of embarrassment. I looked over to Harry and saw that every ounce of colour had drained from his face, leaving him deathly white. I looked in confusion between Harry and the young boy trying to figure out what had caused such an extreme reaction. It took only a short minute before I made the connection, my mind flashing back to a nearly identical incident from years ago. Colin Creevey. Colin was a Gryffindor who had started Hogwarts the year after we had. He was a muggle born and right from the start he had been obsessed with Harry. He hero- worshipped him, following him around everywhere he went, trying to take pictures or get an autograph. He even followed Harry right into danger, into the final battle and to his death. Although he was only a year younger than us, he had always seemed a lot younger. Harry had never forgiven himself. He never really would. He would always blame himself for the deaths of those who had followed him into the battle. For those who had died for him.

'I'm so sorry,' I said getting to my feet and pulling at Harry's arm, signalling for him to follow me. One look over at Ginny's concerned face told me that she had seen Harry's face and new that something was wrong. I imagined she would know exactly what the problem was. 'We have to get to class. We're already late,' I explained to the boy, as I pulled Harry out of the hall.

'Harry, are you okay?’ I asked when we had reached the entrance hall, which thankfully was fairly quiet. We led Harry over to one of the stone benches, although he didn't want to sit down.

'Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... did you notice?' Harry asked, his face clouding over with emotion.

'I know. I saw,’ I said gently, ‘But Harry you can't keep blaming yourself. Colin wanted to fight and he knew what he was getting into. You have to remember, it wasn't just your fight. Lots of people had their own reasons.'

'Yeah, I know,’ he sighed, although deep down I knew he didn’t really mean it. ‘It’s just hard. I thought being back would make things easier, but there are memories everywhere.'

I knew how Harry felt and I didn't have anything to say to comfort him. It was hard for everyone and I knew how much harder it would be for Harry. He took everything very personally and the guilt was weighing heavily on him. Ginny took Harry's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Something passed between them, some silent conversation as they gazed at each other and some of the turmoil and pain left his face. Suddenly I felt like I was intruding on something private, so I took a small step back and hovered awkwardly as various other students started to leave the great hall and head to the first classes of the year.

The first years were streaming out in large crowds, not wanting to be alone, afraid of getting lost in the huge castle on their first day. I smiled and said hello to a few people as they went past until my eyes locked with none other than Draco Malfoy’s. Our gazes connected for a moment and unlike the day before, he didn't look away. Neither did I.

'So, class then?' Harry said, appearing beside me and I quickly averted my gaze. I looked back to Harry, trying to fight off the embarrassed heat that was creeping into my cheeks. Trying to look like I hadn't just been staring at Draco Malfoy.

'Hey guys wait up. Why'd you run off?' Ron came bursting out of the great hall, panting slightly, with a small grin on his face. When he was met with nothing but raised eyebrows and silence, he simply shrugged. Ron had never been entirely perceptive.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my new timetable. ‘Oh, that's new. We’re having completely mixed classes this year. All four houses together, instead of just the usual two.'

'Probably McGonagall's way of trying to get the houses to mingle a bit more. Build bridges and all that,' Ginny offered. 'At least we'll be together. How bad can it be?'

Well of course Ginny just had to ask, because it was bad. Just about as bad as it could get. When we had first arrived in potions class, the formation of the room was different with tables of two rather than four. We had taken seats together at the back of the class, with Ginny and I sitting at one bench and Ron and Harry sitting at the bench behind us. The class had maybe around twenty students. Quite large for a NEWT class, but since there were people like us who had originally missed seventh year there were more people than usual taking the class. It wasn't long before our new potions professor arrived. Professor Slughorn had gone back into retirement at the end of the previous year and so this year we would have three new teachers, one for transfiguration, one for defence against the dark arts and one for potions. The professor was a woman in her mid- thirties, with her black hair pulled into a severe tight bun at the back of her head. She had a stern look on her face a look that made you just know that this wasn’t a woman you should cross. I couldn't help but think of how she looked like a younger version of Professor McGonagall.

'Welcome to your NEWT level potion class. My name is Professor Haven and I will be your new potions professor. I have worked as a potion maker at St Mungo's for the last six years and I am looking forward to the coming year and teaching you all the vital skills that you will need to get through your NEWTs. I'm not going to lie to you. This year will be challenging. You will be learning how to make some of the most complex potions and antidotes in the wizarding world and you will need patience and skill in order to succeed. However, before we start I would like to make a few small changes to the seating arrangements.'

At this, everyone nervously glanced around the classroom. It seemed that old habits died hard as everyone seemed to have sat with people from their own house. At Professor Haven's word, we all grimaced slightly, knowing what was to come.

'You will be sitting in alphabetical order. The seats that I put you in will be your seats for the remainder of the year as will the partner that you are assigned. Potion making is a complex art and one that will often require collaboration with others. As such you will be working closely with your partner, working together to make various solutions and antidotes. I suggest you make friends with them as to succeed in my class you will need both good communication and trust.

Professor Haven summoned a register and started to read through it, beginning with Hannah Abbott, assigning her a seat at the front of the class beside a Hufflepuff from Ginny’s year that I didn’t know As Professor Haven continued to assign people to seats; a Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst were next. I quickly did the maths in my head let out a small groan as I realised who my partner would be. I barely had time to reject the idea when Professor Haven called out my name and pointed to a seat at the front of the classroom, at the opposite side from Hannah. I began to gather my books together when she said my partner's name.

'Draco Malfoy.'

I closed my eyes and heard Ron give a loud scoff. I turned around to shoot a glare at him, before walking over to my new seat. I didn't miss the fact that he gave me a thumbs up with a look of smug happiness on his face. I was sorely tempted to make a rude gesture with my hand, but unfortunately my hands were both full with my books and bags. It was probably just as well, as Professor Haven was standing a mere few feet away from me. Probably not the best way to make a good first impression with a new teacher.

While I had been busy scowling at Ron, Malfoy had been quicker at gathering his things together, as he was already sitting at the seat nearest the wall, the better seat of course; his arm casually resting on the table, his eyes firmly fixed on the front of the class.

I threw my bag down on the table, making it bang a little louder than I had meant to and winced slightly, when I saw Malfoy's eyes flicker briefly in my direction and he sighed deeply as if my mere presence inconvenienced him.

I sat myself down on my seat and turned my back to him, determined not to look at him. I could feel him scowling, I didn’t need to see it confirmed. I turned to glance behind me, to realise that Harry was sitting at one of the tables behind me with Pansy Parkinson and behind him was Ginny and a Ravenclaw girl from her year. I searched the class to find Ron and gave a small chuckle when I saw him sitting next to Blaise Zabini; a look of complete and utter disgust on his face. At least I wasn't the only one who would be having a completely miserable year. I caught his eye as he looked up at me and I repeated his previous gesture to me, by subtly putting my thumbs up to my face and giving him a smirk. He however, had both hands free and was able to stick a certain finger up in my direction, giving me a scowl along with it. I couldn’t help but laugh at his face and I caught Harry's eye when turned around and realised that he was laughing too. I caught Malfoy's look of disdain as I settled back into my seat, rolling my eyes at his killjoy attitude.

I laid my books and parchment across the table in my usual routine and pulled my attention back to Professor Haven, who had directed us to turn to page seventy-two of our books. I quickly flipped through the book and I couldn’t help but smile at the words that met my gaze. Polyjuice Potion. I gave a quick glance over my shoulder to look at Harry, who was grinning widely at me.

'Polyjuice Potion is an extremely delicate and complex potion. It will take us at least one month to brew and to be frank I will be amazed if any of you manage to brew it correctly.'

The smile that I had been trying to suppress quickly came back to my lips. I had currently made Polyjuice Potion twice so far. Once in second year, when we were trying to get information out of Malfoy and once last year, when we had to break into the Ministry of Magic.

After answering most of Professor Haven’s questions about Polyjuice Potion (I let Harry and Ron answer some too) and earning ten points for Gryffindor between us, we finally had to start making the potion. I quickly scanned the list of ingredients and waited for him to move, but he remained still beside me, his face impassive.

'I'll get the ingredients then shall I.’ When Malfoy simply quirked a eyebrow at me, I rolled my eyes and huffed to my feet, looking down at him. ‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to deign to lower yourself to such a menial task.' As I was walking away, I muttered 'pompous arse', just loud enough for him to hear. I didn't even wait for Malfoy's reaction before I stormed off to the supply cupboard where I met Harry.

'This year is going to be so much fun,' I muttered sarcastically, searching through the various jars and bottles for the lacewing flies which were one of the first ingredients on our list.

'I know. I think you got the worse end of the deal though, Hermione,' Harry said, passing me the lacewing flies from the top shelf above me. 'At least this lesson should be easy for you. You had this potion perfected in second year.'

I gave him a modest little nod and a smile, before returning to my table. I noticed that Malfoy had actually managed to move himself and had filled the cauldron with water and had lit the fire to boil it.

I laid out all of the ingredients and made a move to roll up my sleeves, which was part of my usual preparation before making a potion. I rolled up the right sleeve first so that it sat just above my elbow and was halfway through the process on my left sleeve, before I realised that I had just exposed my scar. I gave a small intake of breath, causing Malfoy to glance in my direction. How could I be so stupid? I quickly rolled my sleeve back down, so that it sat midway between my wrist and my elbow, hiding the offensive mark.

I clutched my arm, tightly. I could almost feel the words burning on my skin. As I turned back to work on the potion, I caught Malfoy's gaze lingering on my arm. 'What?' I snapped, causing him to glance up at me. Something in his gaze made my heart momentarily stutter. He was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and pity and it made my blood run cold. He knew. He must do. He had after all been there to witness first hand when it had happened. When I had been branded.

I jutted out my chin and waited for the insult that I was sure was coming, so I surprised when he merely shrugged and looked away beginning to sort through the ingredients that I had brought over. I watched him curiously, still waiting for him to mention the ugly word imprinted on my arm, when I noticed that his sleeves were identical to mine. The right one rolled all the way up past the elbow and the one on the left only going just above the wrist. I watched as he placed his right hand on his left forearm and rubbed it gently. It took me a moment to realise what he was doing. What he was thinking about. What was hidden underneath that sleeve. His dark mark. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. Was he as ashamed of his scar as I was of mine, or was he merely thinking about the good old days with Voldemort? No doubt it was the latter I thought bitterly; no doubt he was wishing he could show it off to the world with pride. After all he had been the youngest person ever to be given that mark.

We worked in silence for the next half an hour. It was surprising how quickly we fell into routine, working together. I would do one step of the potion and he would do the next. It meant that we didn't need to speak to other, so it worked perfectly. It was all going rather well until I noticed that instead of shredding the Boomslang Skin as he was supposed to be doing, he was rather neatly slicing it into perfectly equal portions.

'You're doing that wrong,' I said, sounding more condescending than I intended. I couldn't help but wince slightly as he stiffened and then turned around to glare at me.

'Is that so,' he said quietly, his voice like ice, dripping with disdain.

I narrowed my eyes at him and stood up straighter in an attempt to show him that I wasn't intimidated.

'As a matter of fact yes, you are. You are supposed to be shredding the Boomslang Skin, not slicing it into perfectly equal portions.'

'I'm sure it will be fine,' he drawled, returning to carefully slicing the skin in front of him.

'No, it won't be fine, Malfoy. It says shredded, so funnily enough, it has to be shredded,' I said scornfully and also slightly louder than I had intended. I turned around to check over my shoulder to see if I had caught Professor Haven's attention, but luckily she was distracted by Ron and Zabini, who seemed to have made a mess of their potion, judging by the orange froth that was seeping out over the top of their cauldron.

'Oh, give it a rest Granger,' he said in irritation, his eyes rolling. 'I know you like to think that you know everything and but it’s not like you're such an expert in Polyjuice Potion, so stop trying to tell me what to do.’ I noticed that his body was tense. I was getting on his nerves. I had managed to infiltrate through his frosty exterior and as petty as it was, I enjoyed the thrill of knowing that I had gotten to him.

'For your information, Malfoy,' I said with a sweetly innocent expression, 'I have made Polyjuice Potion twice before, the first time being when I was thirteen years old.’ I took a small step toward him, my smile turning coy. ‘It looks like I was more skilled at thirteen than you are now,' I retorted, satisfied at seeing his brows furrow with both confusion and annoyance.

'Yeah right, Granger,’ he scoffed disbelievingly, folding his arms across his broad chest. ‘What would you have needed Polyjuice Potion for in second year?'

I knew it was wrong and I knew I should have been the bigger person but I just couldn’t help myself. I was enjoying the feel of a spark inside of me that I hadn’t felt in a long time; enjoying the thrill of getting one up on Malfoy to let it go. Which is why I found myself taking a step towards him and saying, 'Wouldn’t you just love to know.’

'What is that supposed to mean?' his eyebrows shot down as he picked up on the clear implication that he had somehow been involved.

I simply raised my eyebrows back at him with a small smile on my lips, before I whipped out my wand and made his sliced Boomslang skin vanish, much to his annoyance. I took more pleasure that I should have as I turned around and waltzed over to the supply cupboard, leaving him with a look of surprise and confusion on his face. The blood was pumping through my veins, with the thrill of fighting with Malfoy. I hadn't felt so alive in a while. Yes, it definitely felt good to be back.

After potions class, I found that I was in a much better mood, the worries of the morning almost forgotten. More than once that day I caught Malfoy scowling in my direction and I wouldn’t even try to deny that I enjoyed it. I took a perverse pleasure in knowing that I gotten under his skin. I could see it in his face that he was irritated, that he was still trying to figure out what I had meant with my cryptic comment.

It wasn't until dinner that night that the others started to notice his constant glaring. I had just taken another glance over my shoulder to see if he was still scowling in my direction, as he had been doing all day. I would bet that by now he had realised that we had tricked him at some point and was trying to work out when we had done it, or else he probably thought that I was just lying to wind him up. He probably thought that he was way too smart to have ever been tricked by us. Either way, I was enjoying watching him squirm.

'Why do you keep looking over at Malfoy, Hermione? And why is he shooting daggers at you?' Harry asked, glancing over at Malfoy. 'He looks like he’s plotting your murder.’

'I’d like to see him try,’ I scoffed. ‘But he's just trying to figure out at what point in second year we tricked him with Polyjuice Potion.’ My face broke into a grin at Harry and Ron’s questioning looks, wondering why I would have told him. I have a careless shrug. ‘He was really bugging me, so I couldn't help winding him up just a little bit.’

Harry and Ron gave out a loud laugh. 'Yeah, he totally fell for it. Took us right inside the Slytherin common room and he didn't suspect a thing. Even when my hair started to turn back to red, he still didn't twig, the idiot,' Ron mused, recounting his experience of being Crabbe.

I gave another quick glance over my shoulder to see Malfoy looking over furiously at us, his face full of rage, while Blaise Zabini talked beside him. I would imagine that he had realised that we were having a laugh at his expense, which was something Malfoy would not let stand. It was only then I noticed how far apart that he and Zabini sat from everyone else at the Slytherin table. Usually Malfoy was surrounded by a large crowd, all hanging onto his every word, but he and Zabini were sat at the end of the table with no one sitting near them. I imagined the rest of the Slytherins had a problem with him turning over to the good side and helping defeat Voldemort. I was pretty sure that more than a few of the Slytherins parents had been put in Azkaban after he had been defeated. As usual Malfoy and his family had come out of the flames completely unscathed. Everyone else had suffered. Once again, Malfoy and his family had been on the wrong side in the war, done unspeakable things and yet got away with everything.

'I wonder why he came back anyway. I mean after everything that happened, why would be even want to?' I wondered aloud. 'Why would any of the Slytherins come back for that matter? I mean Hogwarts doesn't exactly hold the same values as they do. I'm surprised more of them didn't go to Durmstrang instead.'

'They all have to be seen to have changed. Going to Durmstrang would get the Ministry's attention and they would have been watched like hawks for any slip ups with dark magic.' Harry answered. 'Most of their parents are either in Azkaban or avoided it by the skin of their teeth. They have to be seen to try and fit in. Without him to follow, they have too much to lose. They have to conform to regular views. Or at least to be seen to. '

'Like any of us actually believe they've changed,' Ron scoffed through a mouthful of food. ' all know they're just waiting for the next dark wizard that they can follow.

I found myself pondering what the boys had said, looking at the faces at the Slytherin table, wondering if any of them any of them had actually changed, or if they were simply biding their time, waiting for another leader to follow. I shivered at the prospect, knowing that I couldn’t go through all of that again. Just like that my good mood dissipated and I found myself plagued by the memories of all that we had most during the war, of all that I had lost since. Harry, Ginny and Ron were all I had left. How would I ever cope if I lost them too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you have a lovely day whatever you are doing. The best gift you could give me would be kudos, bookmarks so you can stay up to date with new chapters or comments. A new chapter on Saturday.


	6. Chapter 6 - Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I wanted it to be free. I needed it to be free. I needed all of that rage to be gone and so I directed it at the person standing in front of me. At Malfoy.'

Chapter 6- Rage

It didn't take long for us all to be completely swamped with homework, leaving little time to worry about anything else. Every subject that we had, brought another five foot long essay to be completed for the following week. If I hadn’t known it before, it had now definitely been confirmed, our NEWT year was not going to be easy. I was taking seven NEWTs this year including Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Although I hoped I no longer needed Defence Against the Dark Arts, I decided I had better continue with it just in case. Harry and Ron has selected five NEWTs so although they had a little more free time than me, they were still bogged down with homework.

I felt glad to be surrounded by my friends again, however as the days went on and the first few weeks passed, I realised that being back at Hogwarts wasn’t the happy ever after that I was hoping for. I was still having sporadic nightmares, made worse by the fact that I now had to walk along corridors during the day only to be haunted by them at night. I could have handled that if I had my friends beside me, but I didn’t, not fully anyway. I only had a few classes with the others so we spent more time apart than any of us were used to.

Quidditch try- outs had been held in the first week, and Harry (who had been re- appointed Quidditch captain) was desperate to get training started and get his team back into shape. As much as he enjoyed it, I had the feeling he was using it as a distraction to help keep his mind off of other things, not that i coils blame him. Ron and Ginny were of course picked to be on the team, playing their old roles of Keeper and Chaser; Harry was of course too loyal to not pick them.

The three of them spent two nights every week training as well as a few hours at the weekend. And that was only the official training sessions. Ron spent a lot of extra time practising with Harry and Ginny. He seemed to be more motivated to train when he heard the news that Draco Malfoy was once again playing as seeker for the Slytherin team. Quidditch and Draco Malfoy were still two very sore subjects for Ron.

For the first few training sessions, I had gone down to watch them, sitting alone on the wooden stands. However instead of the usual empty stands it was crowded with admiring fans and members of the opposing teams coming to size up the competition. I tried to be supportive but I could only feign interest in for so long and there was only so long I could take sitting on my own, watching the others laughing and joking and having fun, while the spectators around me stared and pointed in my direction. So, after the first week I made my excuses and went to the library to read or study instead. To be honest I wasn't entirely sure they even noticed that I wasn't there.

When the others weren’t at quidditch, we spent the rest of our evenings completing the mammoth amount of homework that we were receiving. We had a few moments together at meal times and very rarely an evening together. Harry and Ginny generally made excuses to be alone saying there were going for a 'walk' around the castle or so they said. I was certain that a few dark and empty corridors were gaining a two regular occupants. I was happy for them, truly I was. They deserved to be happy together. However their alone time meant that Ron and I were often left alone together but instead of making us closer, it seemed to be pushing us further apart. We sat in an awkward silence most of the time, both of knowing that there were unsaid words between us, but both of unsure what those words were. A few times he would start to speak, beginning with a hesitant ‘Hermione’, but then after a few moments would follow it with a ‘never mind’. He tended to leave shortly after that, leaving me sitting on my own. On more than one occasion I would take the long lonely walk back to the Gryffindor common room, to find him sitting talking to Lavender Brown. Apparently whatever he couldn’t say to me, he was having no problem saying to her.

I started to notice Lavender around more often. She would sit close to us at meal times, near us in the library and would be there whenever we walked down to the great hall or to our classes.

I knew it was irrational. I knew it was unfair. I knew that I had no right to feel that way, but I did. Ron had kissed me. He had kissed me and then ignored me and instead of talking to me, he was talking to someone else. I didn’t know what I felt for Ron. Did I love him? I honestly didn’t know. At one point I had thought I did. But when I saw the way Harry looked at Ginny and the way that she looked at him in return; when I saw the way they were absorbed in each other, I started to think that maybe it had been more comfort during a difficult time. One thing I knew for certain, was that Ron certainly didn’t look that way at me. But then, I wasn’t sure that I was ready to see him looking that way at somebody else either.

As the days and weeks progressed, Lavender began to appear more and more and so I began to be there less and less. I ate my meals as quickly as I could and then went to the library to give myself a break. My jaw was aching from how often I was clenching my teeth together, forcing myself to keep smiling, all the while trying not to gouge somebody’s eyes out with my dessert spoon.

We had barely been back at Hogwarts for a few weeks and already I was finding myself increasingly alone. The library had once again become my safe haven and I decided that if I was going to be alone then I could at least look busy while I did it. The library was often quiet in the evenings. It was too early for most people to properly start studying. There were of course the usual group of dedicated Ravenclaw who liked to work together at one of the larger tables. They were always quiet though, respecting the sanctity of the place of learning. Annoyingly, I had another near constant companion in the library, as Draco Malfoy appeared most nights too. In six years, I could only think of a handful of times that I had seen him in the place. The library was my safe haven and it put me on edge that he was there in what felt like my private space. I knew it was stupid. I knew that the school library was not there simply for my personal use but it felt wrong all the same. I felt like I couldn’t relax. Like I couldn’t be at peace. Like I couldn’t concentrate. Like I was constantly on my guard, watching and waiting for him to make his move.

As it turned out I didn't need to worry as he kept himself to himself and didn't bother me or in fact anyone else. It seemed that it wasn’t just my family and my friends who didn’t need me anymore. It seemed that even Draco Malfoy had decided that I was beneath his attention.

At the start of the third week back, I was given something else to focus my mind on, when Ginny plonked herself down beside me at the Gryffindor table while I was eating breakfast.

'Hermione,’ Ginny said all too sweetly, in a tone that I knew for a fact meant that she was just about to ask me for some kind of favour.

'Yes,' I answered, as I continued to butter my toast, not wanting to be drawn in. Ginny's favours could be anything and she had a way of making me agree to do anything, despite my better judgement. One time when she had convinced me to join her in taking one of George's new line of love potions had to be the worst. I shuddered at the memory of the way I acted that day. Unfortunately for me, the first boy I had seen that day was Neville. I don't think he'd ever quite gotten over it.

'Well, you see I've been thinking-‘

‘A dangerous past time,’ I muttered through a mouthful of toast.

'You see, it's your birthday this week and it's your nineteenth and we missed your eighteenth last year, because of well… everything and so I was thinking that we could have a birthday party for you on Friday night. We haven’t properly hung out or had any fun in ages and this would be the perfect opportunity.’

There was a lot of hand waving during her proposal which helped to distract me as I watched the trail of her hands through the air instead of focusing fully on her words. However, the second I did process her words and she noted the objection I was about to make she quickly put up a single finger to halt me and quickly added, 'nothing big of course, just a few friends. I was thinking the Room of Requirement.'

Ginny saw the wariness on my face and before I could even form the first syllable of my refusal, she cut me off again. ‘Don’t say no, just now. Just promise me you’ll think about. I’ll do all the work. All you’d need to do is turn up.’

I sighed deeply, knowing that Ginny wasn’t going to let this one go easily. Birthday parties really weren’t my thing and this year more than any, I didn’t really feel like celebrating. ‘Ginny, this was meant to be a no drama year. And that means no trouble and no detentions for having parties in rooms we aren’t even supposed to know about.’

‘Pfft, everyone knows about the room of requirement now. We won’t get into trouble for using it.’

Seeing that she wasn’t going to be swayed, I tried a different tactic. ‘I was hoping we could just have something quiet. Just the four of us. It’s been ages since we’ve spent proper time together.’

‘We see each other all the time and a party would be so much fun,’ she whined.

‘Then let’s save it for your birthday.’

‘At least think about it, Hermione.’ She leaned forward, giving me her cheesiest smile with wide imploring eyes. ‘Please.’

‘Fine. I’ll think about it,’ I lied, knowing full well that it would be a cold day in hell before I changed my mind.

The day of my birthday came all too soon. Ginny was still pushing for a party, but I was still putting her off. I spent breakfast that morning opening my birthday presents. I got a gorgeous new quill from Harry, made from a red phoenix feather, a beautiful gold necklace from Ginny that had a star pendent at the bottom, the traditional if unimaginative book from Ron, the usual box of sweets from Mrs Weasley and the promised box of beauty products from George.

When the small pile had all been opened, there was just one left. One that I deliberately left until the end. The present from my parents. We hadn’t left things on the best of terms and the present they got me felt strangely important. I was aware of the eyes on me as I peeled back the pink wrapping paper revealing a leather bound of edition of Jane Eyre. It was one of my favourite books. It was an amazing gift. Or it would have been, if they hadn’t already given me the exact same book a few years before. I felt the burn of tears hit the back of my eyes and quickly distracted myself with the card that was attached. I opened it up, recognising my mums neat handwriting.

Dear Hermione

Happy Birthday. We’re sorry that we can’t get to see you on your special day but we’re sure you’ll have a lovely day with your friends.  
We hope you’ve settled in well at school. Things are good here with your dad and I and we’ve been keeping busy with work. I’m sure you’re aware how difficult this has all been for us to settle back in to our life here, so we’ve decided to go back to Australia for Christmas, to see the friends we left behind. I trust this won’t interfere with your plans. Have a great day and remember to write to us soon.

Love Mum and Dad

I read the letter through and then scanned over the words another twice. There was nothing wrong with the letter. Nothing wrong with their words, but all at once the guilt I felt came rushing to the forefront and with it a wave of grief for everything that I had lost. I had been trying to keep my tears at bay but I lost my fight as one tear spilled over the edge, running down my cheek. Quickly, I swiped it away, hoping it would go unnoticed, but I wasn’t quick enough.

‘Are you alright, Hermione?’ Harry asked, concern in his eyes as he noted my reaction. 

‘I’m fine,’ I replied, forcing some cheer into my voice, hoping that my friends couldn’t hear the lie in my voice. I busied myself by folding up the letter and put it away, forcing a smile on my face. 'Just a card from my parents.’

‘Are they okay?’

‘They’re fine,’ I said quickly, still not able to meet anyone’s eyes. ‘I just… I miss them.’ I didn’t need to lie. The pain in my voice was clear to everyone.

Harry nodded understandingly, seeming to accept my answer and returning to his breakfast. I excused myself from the table, saying that I had to get a book from the library before class and that I would meet them in Charms. In truth, I just needed some time alone to compose myself . As soon as I was out of the great hall, I had to stop, leaning against the cool stone wall, my eyes closed. My breaths were shaking and I could feel the emotion rippling just under the surface, desperate to break free, but I forced myself to breath deeply, forcing the emotions down and back under lock and key, refusing to let them free.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn't focus on anything. I didn't put my hand up to answer a question all day and when Professor Flitwick picked me to answer one, I got the answer wrong. I could see his eyes widen in surprise and I immediately lowered my eyes, trying to hide the flush that had appeared on my cheeks. Transfiguration wasn't much better. I couldn't focus, I couldn't clear my mind. All I could think about was how I’d ruined everything; how my parents would never forgive me and my work suffered because of it. I wasn't the first in the class to change the cushion into a rabbit. That honour went to Malfoy, who earned ten house points for Slytherin and I didn't miss the smug smirk that he shot in my direction. I could have died on the spot when the emotion I had been trying to push down rose to the surface and I felt the familiar prickling of my nose and I blinked hard to fight back the tears that were threatening to appear. I quickly turned away, ducking my head to hide behind my hair, but not before I saw his brow furrow in confusion.

I couldn't wait for lunch to come, so that I could have a break from the humiliation, but it ended up being so much worse. I was just approaching the Gryffindor table, when I heard two words that I hadn’t heard in years. Two words that caused my whole body to cringe in angry irritation.

'Hi, Won Won,' came Lavender’s squeal as she pushed past me and wrapped her arms around Ron’s. Arms that he didn’t push away. I stopped dead in my tracks and felt my jaw drop. He was dating her. He was actually dating her. He was really just going to ignore what had happened between us and move on with someone else. He really didn’t care about me anymore.

Despite Ron and I being in a somewhat non- existent relationship, I did still care for him and I had thought he had once cared for me. I had once thought that I would have the surname Weasley and be welcomed into that crazy home where I would be constantly surrounded by family; where I would never feel alone. As I watched Lavender plant her lips firmly onto Ron’s, I saw that dream wither and die. Harry would marry Ginny, of that I was sure. He would always be there, a part of that family and I would once again remain the outsider, always looking on from the outside, always alone.

Underneath the hurt, it didn’t take me long to realise that I was angry. No, I was furious. How dare he offer me a dream future and whip it all away without so much as a ‘sorry, but no thanks’! How dare he ignore me all summer! How dare he be such an insensitive arsehole, parading around his new girlfriend on my bloody birthday!

Storming out of the hall, I took a quick walk before I made my way to the last class of the day, double potions; the perfect end to the perfect day. Rage continued to eat away inside me, not helped by the fact that due to that inconsiderate pricks, inconsiderate timing, I had skipped lunch. My patience was virtually non- existent and I tutted rather rudely when anyone got in my way and even barged past a few people who didn't get out of my way quick enough.

I was first to class that day and I sat in stiff silence, waiting for the class to start. The others called my name when they arrived, asking why I had missed lunch, but I just glared at Ron as he watched Lavender make her way across the room. With a disgusted snort, I reached into my bag and pulled out my notebook and textbook, banging them both on the table unnecessarily loudly.

Malfoy, who had arrived a few minutes before, looked around to glare down at me. 'Do you mind?' he snapped in irritation.

I shot him an equally hate filled glare before hissing back, 'Not particularly, no.'

I spent the next twenty minutes of the lesson, ignoring Professor Haven who was wittering away at the front of the class. Today we were making a healing potion for boils as our Polyjuice Potion had to brew for the next week before we could complete the next step. I had only two thoughts in my head and they kept swirling round and round on a near constant loop. Ron, my parents, Ron kissing Lavender, my parents hate me, Ron with his tongue down her throat, my parents abandoning me for Christmas, Ron bloody dating her. My body was completely tense and I could feel the anger radiating around me in pulsating waves. My jaw was clenched tightly, my hands were balled up into tight fists and they were practically shaking with the rage flowing through my body.

I hadn't calmed down any by the time we had to begin making our potion which actually turned out to be quite beneficial as I had to grind the porcupine quills with the pestle and mortar. I felt a huge amount of satisfaction as I twisted the pestle and heard the crunching of the porcupine quills as my anger and frustration ground them into dust. I imagined Ron's face at the bottom of the bowl as I obliterated the little quills into smithereens.

With only thirty minutes to, I happened to glance in Malfoy’s direction and saw that he was about to screw up our second potion in a row.

'Malfoy, what the hell are you doing?' I hissed in his direction, satisfied when he looked at me, his eyes wide in surprise. 'Are you completely incompetent? It stated quite clearly that you add the dittany after the foxglove, not before. Idiot.’ I muttered the last word under my breath, but from the way he stiffened I knew that he heard. It felt good to finally be releasing some of my pent up anger, even if it was at the wrong person.

'What is your problem, Granger?' he asked with a look of total shock on his face. If I didn’t know better I would have said he actually looked quite hurt before the shutters came down and he reverted to his old unfeeling self. 'You still jealous that I beat your sorry arse for once? The mighty Granger didn't come top of a class,' he said giving me a self- satisfied sneer.

I recoiled slightly at his arrogance, but it didn't take me long to find a comeback.

'Oh, get over yourself, Malfoy. My problem is that you are completely and utterly incapable of brewing a decent potion.'

'Is that so? How have I managed to cope for all these years without your incessant bitching in my ear? Believe it or not Granger, you're not the only one who can actually do things.’ He crossed his arms in front of him and his eyes flicked to the opposite side and then to the back. A knowing smirk appeared on his face. ‘But then again, maybe it's not me your mad at. Maybe you're mad because Weasleby's got himself a new girlfriend.’ He looked me down and then back up, pausing when he reached my hair and then booked in Ron’s direction. ‘I guess even he's not into the frizzy haired know it all, but then who would be?'

I would like to say that I didn’t know what I was doing. I would like to say that something came over me, some red mist of anger that controlled my actions, but I couldn’t. Because in that moment I finally let myself snap. All of the anger, all of the rage that had been pent up and building up throughout the day finally exploded. And I let it. I wanted it to be free. I needed it to be free. I needed all of that rage to be gone and so I directed it at the person standing in front of me. At Malfoy.

I grabbed my wand from my pocket, pointed it directly at him. Before his satisfied smirk could even begin to stoop, before his eyes could ever begin to widen in surprise, I said the spell in my head, throwing him back hard against the wall behind him. Not satisfied I flicked my wand again watching in satisfaction as his perfectly pale skin erupted with large, orange boils.

'What the hell?’ he yelled, looking at the huge pussy boils on his hand. He stood in complete shock for a moment, before he retaliated, finding his wand and casting a hex at me in return. However was ready for him and I managed to deflect the spell, before quickly firing the Bat Bogey Hex at him. I wasn’t as good at the curse as Ginny, but I was pleased when saw rather large grotesque, green bogies streaming down his nose that erupted into giant green bats. At that I couldn't help but burst out laughing. He looked so furious, but that only made the whole situation seem funnier.

However, he took advantage of my momentary lack of concentration and took the opportunity to fire a curse at me. recoiled slightly at the force of the spell hitting me and I waited for a moment, trying to figure out what he had done. When it was his turn to burst out laughing, I knew that he had done something, but I couldn't quite work what it was. That was until my vision was gradually obscured until I couldn’t see anything at all. I put my hand up to my face and realised that it was completely covered by hair, which seemed to still be rapidly growing in length, as I could now feel it reach the backs of my legs.

'You bastard,' screamed at him. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, which wasn't easy, before firing another hex at him, which this time he actually managed to deflect. We continued firing hexes at each other, both managing to deflect them easily, even if half of my vision was obscured. My brain barely even registered the sound of a commotion behind me, but I was distracted enough to partially turn my head in the direction of the noise. I was half way between turning around when I heard 'Immobulus' and I was frozen still in my movements. No matter how hard I tried, the only part of my body that I could move was my eyes.

It was only when I was forced to be still that my mind began to clear and I immediately realised what I'd done.

Finally thinking clearly I took in the sight in front of me. Malfoy was standing in there, covered in bogies and huge orange boils, apparently paralysed like I was. Usually I would have laughed at this sight, but I was still in too much shock. Even if I had wanted to laugh, I still wasn't in control of my mouth. In fact I was pretty certain, it was still hanging open, ready to fire the next curse at Malfoy, before I had been frozen in place. I could only imagine what I looked like, with my already frizzy hair, now having reached the floor and billowing out like the train of a dress behind me.

Professor Haven then came into view and I felt my stomach squirm at the look of fury on her face. She waved her wand again and I felt my hair retract to its usual length and watched as Malfoy's appearance too returned to normal. She then muttered a spell which allowed us to move again. I glanced around the class room and I swallowed hard as my stomach filled with horror.

Only a minute before, it had just been me and Malfoy. The two of us. Alone. Locked in a battle with each other. I hadn't been able to see or hear anything else. All I had known was that I was angry and I wanted to hurt him. As I gazed around the classroom, I gazed at a scene of complete and utter destruction. Our deflected hexes had clearly found targets elsewhere. Jars that sat on the shelves around the classroom lay shattered; their contents splattered against the wall and on the floor. I realised that half the occupants of the room were cowering behind their desks and the other half that hadn't quite made it to cover, were covered in red angry boils. I looked around confused as to why they were covered in boils, when my gaze fell onto a cauldron that currently lay in a mangled mess. I guess it had exploded, sending great dollops of potion flying across the classroom. I wondered which one of us had hit that. I prayed with all my magic that it hadn't been me.

My eyes eventually landed on the angry witch that stood before us. I was right before when I had said that she reminded of Professor McGonagall, but at that moment I realised that McGonagall had nothing on this woman. I winced as I realised that half of her face was also covered in angry red boils. Her eyes contained such rage that I couldn't bear to look at them and so I did the cowardly thing and looked at my feet.

'Never,’ she said, her voice quiet, but no less menacing, ‘have I seen anything so shameful in my life and from seventh years of all people.' Just like Professor McGonagall, Professor Haven didn't need to raise her voice to be terrifying. In fact it was the quietness of her voice that made the whole situation worse. 'Both of you gather your things and go and see Professor McGonagall immediately. She can deal with both of you.'

Malfoy turned and stormed out of the class ahead of me and I caught the look of pure rage on his face. I practically ran from the class, barely registering the looks of pure shock on Ron and Harry's faces.

I made my way to Professor McGonagall's office in a complete daze. What the hell had gotten into me? It was only Malfoy. I could handle Malfoy. He had pissed me off nearly every day in life and I had never before reacted that way. I tried to go as quickly as I could manage, knowing that he was already ahead of me. Part of me wished that I could delay the inevitable by walking as slowly as possible, yet Malfoy had left before me and I really didn't want to turn up too much later after him. I didn't need to get into trouble for wasting time as well.

When I finally reached the head mistresses office, I nervously knocked on the door and winced when I heard a sharp voice say, 'Come in.'

I took a deep breath before I walked into the office, scowling at Malfoy who was already sitting in front of the headmistresses desk but as I glanced at Professor McGonagall's furious face, I quickly lowered my eyes again. I had been in trouble before, but I had never been alone. I had always been with Harry and Ron and in our minds at least, there was usually a very good explanation for what we had done. This time it was all on me and I had no reasonable explanation to offer.

'Sit down, Miss Granger,' McGonagall said with that sharp edge to her voice that made every single pupil in Hogwarts completely fear her. I was experiencing first hand just how very true that was, although apparently not everyone was quite so affected.

As sat down next to Malfoy, I noticed how cool and calm he seemed. His true Malfoy mask was in place. I would wonder if he actually had any feelings at all if it weren't for the slight flush of his cheeks and the hard set of his jaw that told me exactly how he was feeling. I on the other hand was scarlet, my breath was shaky and uneven; my palms were so sweaty and my leg was bouncing up and down with the nervous twitch that I always got when I was scared or nervous. The people sitting around me in exams always hated sitting near me as my leg would be constantly bobbing up and down. I found it soothing, but others found it somewhat distracting. Professor McGonagall began to speak and I kept my eyes firmly on my lap, determined not to look at her. I couldn't bear to see the way she was looking at me. Like I had let her down.

'I have already had a note from Professor Haven explaining the events that occurred today in your potions class, so an explanation of events will not be necessary.'

I glanced up briefly at her eyes and immediately regretted it. Her steely eyes displayed such anger that it made me flinch. However it was the disappointment that I saw reflected in those blue eyes that threatened to bring the tears to my own.

'Both of you have caused a considerable amount of damage to your classroom and many of your fellow students as well as Professor Haven have had to go to the hospital wing to be treated for the effects of the potion that they were hit with. think that it goes without saying that I am extremely disappointed in you both. Both of you have previously been prefects at this school and as such I expect you to continue to act in a manner befitting of that position.'

She paused slightly and looked at the two of us, but this time kept my eyes firmly on my lap. Malfoy looked straight ahead, somewhere over her shoulder, almost as if he was bored. She sighed again as she began.

'I am aware that you two have had ...' she said, pausing briefly, as if searching for the right word, 'difficulties in the past, but I had expected that after the past years events that both of you could have been mature enough to have put these rivalries behind you.'

At that my head snapped up. Rivalries? Since when were me and Draco rivals? Tormentor and bully would be more accurate.

'I believe that I made it clear in the start of term speech that I expected members of different houses to work together. I warn both of you that a lengthy punishment is in order, after the severity of your actions.'

I felt my stomach drop at her words. I was a complete and utter idiot. What had gotten into me? Professor McGonagall pondered the options for a minute, before finally settling on our punishment.

'Hmm, well let me think,' she paused for a moment, looking around the circular room for inspiration. Something about the way that she was looking at the two of us over the top of her glasses made me feel nervous. I would swear there was a glint of malice in those eyes. 'Ah yes. Madame Pince was saying just this week that many of the library books are in need of re- cataloguing and repair. I think that she would be more than grateful for some assistance in cataloguing the books.'

As much as I loved books and spending time in the library, working alongside Madame Pince was less appealing. If I loved books, then Madame Pince lived for them. I was surprised that she actually let any of the students touch the books she was so obsessed with keeping them safe. She would never actually allow anyone to meddle in her precious system. Not to mention that there were thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of books in that library. Cataloguing the books would take weeks, something which I unfortunately blurted out.

'Yes, I believe that it will take quite some time, but the good news for both of you is that you will be completing your detention together, so it will give you the perfect opportunity to learn to work together. Perhaps you might learn a thing or two about tolerance and co-operation.' Draco and I exchanged a shared look of utter horror at the very idea of having to work together. Professor McGonogall carried on regardless, 'You will have detention every week until the Christmas break. Ample time to complete the task I should think.'

At this I closed my eyes and let out a quiet groan. As bad as spending time in the library with both Madame Pince and Malfoy was going to be, I was now going to be doing it every week for three whole months. Malfoy was apparently just as horrified at this prospect as I was, as his cool exterior seemed to have shattered. He shot forward in his seat and had no problem in voicing his disgust to our new head teacher.

'Months of detention for one tiny little incident that wasn't even my fault! That's insane, and besides the day Granger and I work together is the day that the Chudley Cannons win the Quidditch cup. She's a nightmare.' At this he flopped backwards in the chair with a loud thump, folded his arms and shot me a look of contempt just to make his emotions even more clear.

I quickly forgot that I was currently in the headmistress's office and I seemed to have forgotten the reason that I was here in the first place, but something about that boy got my blood boiling. I lifted my head to meet his angry eyes, filling my own with as much hate as I could muster. I struggled to keep my voice calm, but failed miserably as I shot back 'oh don't worry, Malfoy,' I spat out with much more venom that I had intended, 'the feeling is entirely mutual.'

We continued to glare at each other, shooting the other looks of utter revulsion, completely forgetting that we were actually sitting in front of the head teacher. Professor McGonagall simply sat at her desk, her gaze lingering on the two of us, watching our exchange with interest.

'Well in that case,’ she began, as both our pairs of eyes darted hopefully to her, 'Since you and Mr Malfoy, don't think that you can work sufficiently well together, I suggest that we make the detentions twice a week, just to ensure that you have ample time to work on your tolerance of each and to get the task done to a high standard.'

It took a moment for me to fully process what I had heard and as I absorbed the information that I was hearing, my eyes widened and my jaw dropped. I turned to glare at Malfoy for making the situation worse and realised that his expression was the exact mirror image of mine. Then just as I cried out 'but that's not fair!' I heard Malfoy say the exact same thing at the exact same time. I turned to give him one furious glare, hoping that I was conveying the message, ‘this is your fault!’ when I noticed that he too had turned to give me similar look. I turned my head away from him in disgust, stewing at the situation that I found myself in. I knew it was completely my own fault that we were in this situation, but my irrational side wanted to blame him. After all he had just gone and doubled our punishment with his stupid big mouth.

Professor McGonagall stood up and raised her hand out in front of her, to stop us from arguing with her further. I wanted to say more to her, about how this would interfere with our studies, but couldn't muster up enough courage to argue further with her.

'Now Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, I should warn you both that any more incidents of this nature from either or you will result in more punishments and the removal of certain privileges such as Quidditch, Hogsmeade visits and may even result in letters home to your parents.'

I heard Malfoy gasp slightly as this. I was pretty sure he was more worried about losing Quidditch privileges rather than the prospect of a letter home. I bet his parents would probably be quite proud that their son had been fighting, especially with their least favourite mudblood. I however was terrified at this prospect. My parents relationship with my parents was already strained. They didn’t need to hear how I started attacking people in classrooms.

'You will have detentions every Saturday afternoon and Wednesday evenings, beginning tomorrow. Mr Malfoy, you may return to class, Miss Granger, if you could wait here for a moment.' Malfoy certainly didn't need telling twice and practically ran out of the door, slamming it rather loudly behind him. I determinedly watched him leave, wanting to prolong the moment where I would have to look back at McGonagall and receive another telling off. However, when I did eventually look back at her face, I was surprised to see that her eyes weren't full of anger or even disappointment, they were full of concern.

'Miss Granger, is everything alright? I know it must be difficult being back after what you've been through, and I know that you and Mr Malfoy have never got on particularly well, but I am concerned at your behaviour today.'

In truth I thought, I was far from alright. My parents hated me, Ron had moved on, Harry and Ginny were spending more and more time together and I was feeling more and more alone. However that wasn’t something I would ever admit to anyone, least of all the head teacher, so I went with the easy answer.

'I'm fine, Professor,' I answered, trying to give her a smile. 'Honestly. I guess I'm just a little tired and a little stressed. I’m really sorry for what happened today. I don't know what came over me.'

McGonagall looked doubtingly at me, but tried to give me a comforting smile. 'Are you sure Miss Granger? Mr Malfoy hasn't done or said anything?'

She looked completely uncomfortable at having to ask the question and for a split second I actually felt kind of sorry for Malfoy since he technically had only been defending himself from my crazed attack.

'No, Professor, it's nothing to do with him.' I hesitated slightly. 'Can I go now Professor?' I didn't want to be rude, but neither did I want to sit here answering awkward questions.

Professor McGonagall sighed slightly at my response, but then said, 'yes of course Miss Granger. Please remember that I am always here if you need to talk.'

I gave her a small smile in return, but on the inside I could honestly not think of anything I would rather not do. I practically ran to the door, afraid that she would call me back and let out a relieved sigh when I was finally safe on the other side of the door. Detention with Malfoy for three whole months. Well, happy flipping birthday to me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, bookmarks and comments are all seriously appreciated, so please let me know what you think 😊
> 
> Also if you are on tumblr have a look for my page to advertise this story.


	7. Chapter 7 - Partying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked down at me and then commented with a smile, ‘Hermione, girl you are wasted.’ 
> 
> I grinned up at him. ‘I know. Isn’t it great.’

Chapter 7- Partying

I stormed out of McGonagall's office, completely furious with myself and even more furious with Draco Malfoy. If only he had just kept his mouth shut. But of course he couldn't. I was almost surprised that he didn't threaten the headteacher with the wrath of his father, like he had done so many times in the past.

I headed back to the Gryffindor common room, marching down the corridors. My face must have shown my feelings as every person who crossed my path, jumped immediately out of the way. Either that or they had heard that I had just blown up half a classroom and were wisely steering clear, not wanting to be my next target.

All too soon I was entering through the portrait hole and into the common room, immediately coming face to face with Harry, Ron and Ginny who came rushing over to meet me. I could tell that I looked simply furious as the three of them exchanged nervous glances, wondering which one would speak first. In the end it was Harry.

'Em, so what happened Hermione? I mean with McGonagall,' he clarified. We all knew what I had just done to the classroom.

'Detention,' I bit out furiously. 'Twice a week until December,' I added, watching their eyes widen in slight shock and trying their best to look sympathetic.

'Oh, but that's not even the worst part,' I continued, my arms flying about dramatically.

'What's the worst part?' Ginny asked tentatively, as the other two eyed me warily.

'Not only do I have detention twice a week, I have detention twice a week with fucking Malfoy of all people.'

Harry and Ginny had the good grace to at least attempt to looked horrified, but Ron just laughed out loud. 'Oh, that I have to see. You and Malfoy together twice a week, so what's the bet then? How long before she kills him?'

In response I simply threw my incredibly heavy bag at him, satisfied when he grunted as the bag made impact with his stomach. I smiled to my myself. I knew there was a good reason for carrying that many books around at the one time.

I walked passed him, not even bothering to hide the smirk on my lips and stalked over to the best seat in the common room, throwing myself down on the couch dramatically.

'When do you have to start the detention?' Harry asked, sitting down beside me.

'Every Saturday afternoon and Wednesday evenings, starting tomorrow,' I answered, blinking back the first threat of tears. Why did I always have to cry when I was angry?

'I swear this bloody day just keeps better and better.' I turned my face away from the others, hiding the shining tears that were threatening to spill over.

I stared into the fire, watching the flames flicker and crack, allowing the remnants of my anger to wither away like the tiny embers as they hit the cold stone slabs of the fireplace. I knew my anger had been misplaced. I knew that I couldn't blame McGonagall. I couldn't even blame Malfoy, although that would have been simpler. I was angry at myself. Angry for letting things get on top of me and worse for reacting to them. I was better than this. I was meant to be better than this. Cool, logical and clever Hermione Granger. Weren't those the words always used to describe me. Yet this time I had been emotional and hysterical and out of control and it wasn't me. I wasn't that girl. I was meant to be the girl who could handle anything and everything and if that wasn't me, then who was I?

'So, Hermione,' Harry asked after a long moment of silence. 'What actually happened? I mean what did Malfoy do?' Harry asked somewhat nervously, clearly not wanting to upset me again.

I kept my eyes onto the dancing flames, trying to think back to what he had actually said but I couldn't remember. All I remembered was that whatever was said, I was the one to start it. 'Oh, you know nothing much,' I shrugged, trying to brush them off. 'Just being the usual Malfoy.'

'Right,’ Harry said, drawing the word out slowly. 'It's just that I don't think I've ever really seen you get that angry before.' He paused and thought for a moment. 'Except when you slapped him,' he amended. 'I figured he must have done something really bad to make you do that to him. And in class of all places.'

I looked up at him not sure how to answer, feeling the first flutters of shame start to creep in. Even Harry thought that I had over reacted. Deep down I knew that I had. I knew that I had let myself lose control. I had let my anger and my rage win. As much as I might have wanted to, I couldn't place the blame with Draco Malfoy. It hadn't been him that upset me after all. Not really. His insults were harmless. Nothing that I hadn't heard before. They were just salt added into the already gaping wound. The gaping wound that my parents had first sliced into me and had been gouged wider by Ron. My friends were all looking at me, waiting for me to explain, but I didn't want to feel their sympathy of their pitying glances. Being the strong one was my role. It was my job. I wasn't the weak girl who needed help. I wasn't the one who needed cared for.

Forcing the emotion from my face, I stood up, surprising the others with the swiftness of my movements. ‘You know what it’s fine. It’s still my birthday and I intend to celebrate.’

‘What do you want to do? Dinner? Drinks? Get pictures of Malfoy’s face and throw little darts at it.’

As tempting as her third option truly was, I had a different idea. I wanted to forget everything that had happened that day. I wanted to forget about Ron choosing Lavender. I wanted to forget about my parents going back to Australia. I wanted to forget about detention. And I there was one way that I could that. I looked up a lot Ginny, forcing a smile to my face. ‘I believe you mentioned something about a party.’

I couldn’t stop giggling. But then I had just done a shot of gigglewater. I knew that I was veering quickly out of tipsy and firmly into drunk territory, but I didn’t care. My body was buzzing, tingling with a happy glow. I felt free for the first time in ages.

As soon as I had mentioned the word party, Ginny had launched straight into planning mode. The boys had been ordered to go to Hogsmeade to stock up on drinks while the girls headed to the room of the requirement to get things organised. Then began the hours of getting ready. Ginny had ordered me to sit in a chair while she played both make up artist and hairdresser. After being prodded, primped, yanked and tugged I was finally ready. After she discounted every item of clothing that I owned, she ordered me into one of her dresses, a black dress with silver accents that would normally have been so far out of my comfort zone, but today, with everything that had happened, I couldn’t find the energy to care that it was tight fitting, low in the back and only came to mid thigh. My only stipulation was sleeves and luckily it had them, a suitable covering for my scar.

The room of requirement looked good, with low lighting and couches along one wall. There was a make shift bar at one side that some of the boys were taking turns manning. Sean and Dean were taking their turn playing bartender, attempting to throw bottles to each other, something which I was finding hilarious.

That was until I heard a song that I knew. I didn’t listen to a huge amount of wizarding music, but I recognised this one from the Yule ball. ‘Let’s dance,’ I shouted to Ginny, dragging her behind me. There wasn’t actually anyone dancing, but someone had to be first.

As Ginny and I moved to the music, I realised just how much I loved dancing. Why had I not done this before? How long has been since I just let myself go and have some fun? Soon the dance floor was packed, lights were flashing and I found myself dancing with a group of girls I wasn’t entirely sure that I knew. I turned around, arms flailing, nearly hitting Dean in the face.

‘Oops. Sorry, Dean. And how are you?’ I asked, throwing my arms around his neck as if we were my best friend in the whole entire world.

He looked down at me and then commented with a smile, ‘Hermione, girl you are wasted.’

I grinned up at him. ‘I know. Isn’t it great.’

He shook his head, smiling. ‘Alright then.’

After a few more songs, I shouted the latest great idea to pop into my head. ‘Let’s do shots!’

‘Hermione, don’t you think you should slow down?’ Ginny said into my ear.

‘Nope! You wanted me to have fun and that is exactly what I intend to do.’ I peeled away from her and headed to the bar which was now being manned by a Ravenclaw from the year below me. I pushed my way to the front.

‘Two shots please. Let’s try…’. I glanced over the rows of bottles, ‘-fireswhiskey.’

As I waited for him to pour the drinks, I heard a cheer sound from behind me. I turned around. Harry and Ron were back from their run to Hogsmeade for even more supplies. It had been clear early on that they hadn’t brought enough, so they’d offered to go and get some more. I watched as they put some boxes near to the bar area, before they headed onto the dance floor. As soon as Ginny saw Harry, she launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck. He reached out his hands to her hips to steady himself, his body pressed into hers. He reached down and muttered something into her ear that made her smile.

Envy unlike anything I’d ever experienced around them slithered through my veins like a poisonous serpent. I was happy for them. I was. It was just that I wanted that too. I averted my gaze shifting away from them, landing on another couple. On Lavender and Ron. On Ron who had Lavender pressed up against the wall and was kissing her. The envy twisted, turning ugly, fuelled with frustration and anger. 

I turned around to the two shots lined up in front of me. I guess Ginny wouldn’t be needing one after all. I downed them one after the other, enjoying the feel of the burn as it slid down my throat, warming up the sudden empty chill I felt.

‘What’s the prettiest girl here, doing drinking alone?’

I looked up to find Cormac McLaggen, his lip quirked up as he looked at me. I’d been out with Cormac before for one disastrous date. At the time I’d been trying to make Ron jealous. He was tall, older and back at Hogwarts again so that he could finally get his NEWTs. In that moment I couldn’t remember all of the many reasons why we had stopped at just one date, all I could see was his his face close to mine, the wave in his perfectly styled hair and the warm brown eyes that were staring at me with definite interest.

My eyes flicked involuntarily over his shoulder to the couples on the dance floor. I forced my eyes back to Cormac’s, making my decision. ‘Just waiting for someone to ask me dance.’

I saw the spark in his eyes and he took my hand leading me into the dance floor. Cormac was a good dancer. His hands held my hips as we moved to the music. As the beat went on I found myself pressing closer to his body, my arms winding up and around his neck. I could feel the heat of his body, seeping into mine. I wanted more of it. I wanted to feel something. Someone. How long had it been? How long had it been since someone had touched me with more than a passing graze? Needing more, I pressed myself further into him and his hands moved, running over the bare skin of my back, over my shoulders, down my arms, settling down low on my back. Very low.

We continued to move closer to one another until our mouths were inches apart. I looked first at his strong jaw, then his mouth and finally at his eyes. His head descended. I stood frozen as his lips met mine. That was until an image of Ron with Lavender popped into my head and I let my lips angrily part.

Cormac kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth and touching mine. It wasn’t a bad kiss. Technically it was quite a good kiss, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was I felt nothing. Whatever that thing was that made Harry and Ginny sneak off together at every spare moment, that thing that has them shooting lust filled glances at each other just wasn’t there. I had thought I had felt it once before. With Ron. But then maybe that had just been adrenaline, the thrill of surviving. But now, with Cormac, there was nothing.

I clutched to his shirt with my hands, pulling him closer to me, deepening the kiss. I tried to feel something, I swear I did, but I nearly cried out in frustration as that empty feeling remained.

Cormac felt it. The minute I gave up. But he didn’t stop. He just pulled back slightly, but it didn’t matter. It gave me enough time to pull away from him and mutter and apology before I ran from the room of requirement.

My tears were blinding me as I ran through the corridors, before I eventually gave up and slumped down against a cold, stone wall, wondering what was wrong with me. Wondering why everyone I loved seemed to be leaving me. Wondering if I was destined to be alone forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment, kudos or bookmarks and thanks to those you have already done so. It means a lot.  
> Also I’ve started putting together some collages and images of some of the chapters on tumblr so check it out if you get a chance. My user name is purpleskye05. Thanks 😊


	8. Chapter 8 - Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s gone. You can stop hiding now. Or do you intend to leave me to all the work alone?’

Chapter 8 : Hiding

This was the reason I didn’t drink. And in that moment I vowed that I never would again.

My mouth felt like it was packed full of cotton wool balls. I ran my tongue around my mouth, trying to rid my mouth of some of the dryness, but immediately stopped on a gag. As my head jerked back into the pillow, pain shot across my forehead, round my temple and down the back of my skull.

I was aware that my breath did not smell good. I tried to force some movement into my limbs but the ache and wave of sickness that rose from my fragile stomach was just another piece of evidence drawing me to the conclusion that I was not just hungover. I was mortifyingly and embarrassingly hungover!

With a groan, I turned on my side and forced my eyes to open. After a few minutes, I shuffled myself up into a seated position, whereupon the room suddenly spun around, and with the spinning, memories of the previous night slammed into my brain knocking me back against the headboard.

Images of the previous night flashed though my mind in quick succession. Dancing, drinking, shots, laughter, Ron kissing Lavender and… I closed my eyes again and my cheeks burned with mortification, me kissing Cormac. I buried my face in my hands. I was such an idiot.

I heard the dormitory door open and through a crack in my fingers, I saw Ginny breezing into the room.

‘You look like crap,’ she declared cheerily, looking way to way too sober and happy for someone who had been drinking the night before.

‘Thanks Gin. I love you too.’

She blew me an air kiss. ‘Just keeping it real. Besides you’re about to love me a whole lot more. She held up a glass of water, a vial of something and a piece of toast.

I gave an involuntary gag and wouldn’t have been surprised if I had turned green. She sighed and set them down in the table beside me. ‘You need to eat something.,’ she advised. ‘And the potion should help with any headache.’

I downed the glass of water first, quickly followed by the potion before I began nibbling on the edges of the toast. 

After a minute of silence, Ginny leaned forward with a long ‘so?’

‘So, what?’

‘So, last night.’

When I quirked a brow at her in reply, she elaborated. ‘So, you and Cormac? When did that happen?’

‘There is no me and Cormac. Nothing happened.’

‘Right,’ she said slowly. ‘So it wasn’t you that I saw wrapped around him, practically shagging on the dance floor?’

It was a good thing I had finished the glass of water, or I would have sprayed it all over her. ‘I was not nearly shagging him,’ I cried out indignantly. ‘We kissed and that is definitely all that happened.'

'Well, that's not what it looked like and that's not what people are saying.'

'Oh great, so people have nothing better to gossip about than the fact that I kissed Cormac McLaggen.'

‘So how was it?’she asked, leaning forward.

‘How was what?’ I asked, forcing myself to take another tiny nibble of toast.

‘The kiss! Come on, Hermione. What was he like?’

‘He was… fine.’

She looked disappointed. ‘Just… fine?’

‘Yes. Just fine.’

‘And are you seeing him again?’

‘No. It was a one time thing. Over. Done.’

‘Hmm. Pity. Although maybe it’s just as well.’ She eyed me thoughtfully. ‘Ron has been in a hell of a mood all morning.’

My heart gave a jump, but I forced my face to stay impassive. ‘And what does that have to do with me?’

‘I don’t know.’ She eyed me thoughtfully. ‘You tell me.’

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ I insisted and it was true. Whatever I may have imagined, there was nothing going on with Ron and I. He had made that much clear. Whatever his problem was, it was definitely not because of me. ‘You know how much he hates Cormac,’ I offered as an explanation.

Ginny gave a small smile at my denial. ‘If you say so.’

I forced myself back to my toast, ignoring her. I tried to change the subject. What are your plans for today. ‘Are you having quidditch practise or are you all too hung over for that?’

'Well, actually, that's why I came up to find you. Doesn't your detention start today?'

'Shit! I totally forgot. Why the hell didn't you tell me before?' I shouted at her, as I leapt out of the bed. .

'I dunno, I forgot,’ she shrugged. ‘You side tracked me with all the gossip. You'd better go though. It's twenty to one and your detention starts at one.'

'Fuck! Ginny, McGonagall's going to kill me if I'm late,' I yelled, knocking her out of the way as I ran to the mirror in the bathroom to check my appearance. I gave a small shriek when I saw my appearance. Globs of mascara were around my eyes, grey and pasty pallor and lipstick smeared around my mouths. My hair however, which should have been resembling a birds nest at this point, actually still looked pretty perfect; a little wavier than the previous night, but still perfectly smooth and shiny. I was going to have to seriously thank George when I next saw him. The man was a genius.

Already late, I regrettably didn't have time for a much needed shower, so I splashed my face with cold water, wiping off the remains of the make up hoping that it would at least make me look slightly better than I felt.

Knowing that I was late, I ran down the stairs, ignoring the swirling nausea inside and sprinted through the common room, aware that there were many pairs of eyes on me. I was vaguely aware of someone calling my name, but I ignored them and kept running. I was already late as it was.

I ran all the way into the library skidding to halt when I saw Madame Pince standing with Malfoy. I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her, 1:03 it said. Damn, I was late.

‘I am … so… sorry… I'm late,' I managed to say through gasping breaths.

I had to bend over; feeling very light headed and rested my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath and keep myself from falling over in a heap at the librarians feet. I lifted my head slightly, to see Madam Pince looking at me in slight shock. Malfoy on the other hand, who was leaning casually against the librarians desk, gave me a quick once over with his swift gaze, giving me a look that was one of unmistakable, sheer disgust.

I did my best to glare back at him. Yes I was perfectly aware that I looked like crap. I was breathless, my face was flushed, I was sweating and I was very close to throwing up again. Not to mention the fact that I was dressed in muggle clothes. Something that Malfoy would most definitely not approve of, but Malfoy could still go to hell.

'Well, don't make a habit of it, Miss Granger or I will have to report it to Professor McGonagall. Please ensure that you make the time up at the other end.'

‘Oh, don't worry, I will,' I said a little too haughtily. I was only three minutes late for goodness sake. She continued to witter on about what we had to do, but I was barely listening, focusing more on trying to keep the contents of my stomach firmly where they belonged.

I felt pure relief when Madame Pince finally stopped talking, although I quickly realised that I didn't actually have a clue what I was supposed to be doing. I followed Malfoy over to the bookcase at the back wall of the library and hovered slightly, watching as he lay some parchments down neatly on a nearby table. He then moved over the bookcase and started to look through the books. I tried to watch him to work out what he was doing, but I was still totally clueless.

'As fascinating as I’m sure I am, are you going to stand there and stare at me all day, or are all you actually going to do something?' Malfoy said, not even bothering to turn around.

I flinched as he spoke, mortified that he thought that I was staring at him again, but still too stubborn to admit that I didn’t know what I was meant to be doing.

After another moment of me hovering like an idiot behind him, picking up the pieces of parchment before putting them back down, he sighed and turned around.

'We have to check all the books on that list and write down the reference numbers, making sure that they are all put back on the shelf in the correct order and record any that are missing or damaged. Merlin, Granger, it's not hard.'

I simply glared at him in return, not willing to give him any more of a reaction than that. He rolled his eyes, completely unintimidated by my withering stare.

‘You’d better do the writing today. I don’t want you going up the ladder and throwing up on my feet.

‘Why? Worried that I’ll ruin your shoes. What are they? Pixie made in Paris?’ I scoffed.

‘Elf made from Italy,’ he replied without missing a beat. ‘Much better quality.’

‘Whatever,’ I muttered. ‘And I’m fine.’

‘Sure. You just reek like a brewery and look-‘ he waved a hand in my general direction, ‘-like that, but yeah, totally fine.’

My jaw clenched in irritation and I had to force myself to take a deep breath and stay calm, trying not to repeat what had gotten me here in the first place. I forced myself to smile at him. ‘Actually I wasn’t drinking beer, so if anything I reek like a distillery not a brewery.’

‘Is that supposed to make it better?’ he sneered.

‘No,’ I shrugged. ‘But if you’re going to insult me, you can at least do it correctly.’

He gave me another eye roll. Something I was noticing he did rather a lot. Or maybe it was just around me.

‘Did you even bother to bring a quill?’ he asked, looking around for the bag that I hadn’t brought.

‘Considering I only just found out that I would be needing one. No.’

He sighed again and gave me the large, very expensive looking eagle feather quill from out of his own bag. ‘Try to to destroy it.’

After that, we quickly got to work, working in complete silence. Just like in potions class, we developed a way of working together that required minimal talking. I would read out a book from the list, he would find it, inspect it and I would mark it down. It was surprising how well we worked. I had been expecting his usual name calling , sarcastic comments or even the occasional hex as payback for him being here. It was my fault that he was in this situation after all. Not that I was ever going to admit that to him.

We worked that way for the next hour or so. I had got over the nauseous phase of my hangover and was into the ravenous stage. I distracted myself from the boring task by happily fantasising about what I would have for dinner that night, since I had missed both breakfast and lunch, when a familiar obnoxiously loud and pompous voice nearby nearby voice, snapped me out of my daydream.

'Excuse me Madame Pince,’ the voice drawled in a way that I knew he was trying to sound charming. ‘Could you please inform me where Hermione Granger is. I believe she is currently carrying out a detention here.' I could imagine him leaning over the desk trying to give her a winning smile, thinking that he could charm the prim and proper librarian.

Moving quicker than I would have thought possible, I dropped the quill, plummeted to the ground, my knees slamming into the hard wooden floor. I scrambled forward and peeked through a small gap in the shelf beside me, looking out to the reception desk. Under my breath I groaned when my worst fears were confirmed. Cormac was in the library and asking where I was. Of course it was Cormac. I should have known after the last time we had been together, he did not give up easily. But then how the hell did he know I was here? I was absolutely sure that I had not mentioned it the night before, but then since I could only remember parts of it, it seemed plausible that maybe I had.

I was sure that strict and always follows the rules Madame Pince would keep me safe. There was no way she would allow visitors when I was in the middle of a detention. So I was stunned when a soft pink blush appeared high on the librarians cheeks and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a small smile that she was trying to hide. She was actually falling for his charms the traitor. Madame Pince raised her hand and pointed in the direction where I was currently hiding. As Cormac turned his head to look in my direction, I ducked down again to make sure that he wouldn't see me. Call me a coward, but I was still mortified that I had kissed him again and with the way I was feeling, I did not have the energy to give the rejection chat again.

I pressed myself flat against the bookcase trying to work out what I was going to do. Scanning around I tried to find somewhere I go, somewhere I could hide, but I was running out of time. I could hear his loud footsteps creaking on the floorboards, coming closer and closer with every second. If I was going to move then it had to be now.

I stood up, still hunched over and ran to the end of the aisle, pushing past a startled Malfoy aside as I did. I crouched down low to hide behind the bookcase in the next row, trying to stay hidden. I pushed one of the books on the lower shelf to the side, so I could see what was happening. I was currently looking at Malfoy's knees. He was still standing in the same spot where I had nearly knocked him off his feet. I leaned forward, shifting my angle so that I could look up at his face. His eyebrows were furrowed, his whipping from side to side as looked around in confusion. He had just turned around in the direction that I had ran and made a move forward when a noise to the left caused both of us to turn.

'Oh, Malfoy,' came Cormac's surprised voice, 'What are you doing here?'

I couldn't see Malfoy's face anymore since he had moved out of my eye line, so I watched Cormac instead, praying that he wouldn't see me.

'What does it look like McLaggen?' Malfoy said, his voice dripping with disdain. 'Detention.'

'Oh. I thought Hermione was doing her detention here. Is she here?' Cormac asked, seeming to be completely unaware of the daggers that Malfoy was shooting at him. I had seen that look used many times before, usually used in younger students who would often run away in tears. I had to wonder if Cormac was really brave or just completely oblivious to the very real danger he was in. I was leaning towards completely oblivious as Cormac ignored Malfoy’s piercing stare and continued to look around the aisle, peering behind Malfoy as if I were somehow hiding in the narrow space behind him. If only he knew.

I waited with baited breath, waiting for the moment where Malfoy would surely rat me out. Of course he would. What reason did he have not to? This would be perfect revenge for what I had done to him after all. I was mentally preparing myself to stand up and face Cormac, I would damned if he found me hiding on the floor, when Malfoy answered.

'Does it look like it?’ he said throwing out his arm and gesturing to the empty space around him.

My breath caught in my throat and my mouth dropped open. Draco Malfoy had just lied for me. He had just helped me. Seriously, what was going on today?

'Oh really,’ Cormac continued, not taking the hint. ‘Because Madam Pince told me that she was over here.'

'Well, Madam Pince must have been mistaken.'

'Merlin, that girl is hard to track down.’ He leaned back against the bookcase, folding is arms across his chest and crossing his ankles, looking like he was settling in. ‘She's like Cinderella,’ he said dreamily. ‘A kiss at midnight and then she disappears and you can't find her again. I won't let her get away so easily this time.'

Malfoy gave Cormac a look that said he didn't have a clue what he was talking about and that said he really didn’t care. My face twisted in disgust and I had to fight against giving a very loud, very audible and very frustrated sigh. That boy was seriously deluded. We had a drunken kiss and his warped imagination; it turns into a flipping fairy-tale with him in the role of Prince Charming. I rolled my eyes, raising my hands up in complete exasperation, but accidentally knocked a book on the shelf with my elbow. Ducking back down low to keep hidden, I saw Malfoy's leg tense and Cormac's head swung immediately in my direction.

'What was that?' Cormac asked, peering over to where I was hiding. I crouched even closer to the floor, determined to stay hidden.

'What was what?' Malfoy said, sounding bored.

'That noise.'

'I didn't hear anything. Now if you don't mind McLaggen, as fascinating as all this is, I’m in the middle of an absolutely riveting detention.’ Draco’s tone was dismissive but also clear. The conversation was over.

'Right, well if you see her can you tell her that I'm looking for her.'

'Oh, I'm sure she knows already,' Malfoy said, a trace of amusement creeping into his voice.

I heard footsteps moving away but I stayed where I was, not wanting to move in case he came back. As I sat crouched on the floor I mentally cursed myself and my own stupidity. This was why I didn’t like losing control. What the hell had I been thinking? This was exactly the way things had gone before. We had one kiss, which I had only done to make Ron jealous and then Cormac had trailed me around the castle, trying to pounce on me at every available opportunity. Damn alcohol, making me forget. Clearly nothing good ever came from it. A voice suddenly interrupted my mental chastising.

'He's gone,’ Malfoy’s said through the bookcase. ‘You can stop hiding now. Or do you intend to leave me to all the work alone?'

I stood up, brushing the dust from my knees and crept back round to the other side of the bookcase, feeling distinctly awkward. Of all the people I would have wanted to witness that little scenario, Malfoy would have definitely been on the bottom of the list. In fact he would have been so far down the list that he wouldn’t even have been on the list. Yet he had helped me to hide. Why would be have done that? He would never willingly help me. It didn’t make sense. Whatever his reasons, I was surprised to find that I was grateful to him. Who would have thought?

'Em, thanks, for, you know,’ I flicked my eyes to him before quickly pulling them away. ‘For not telling him,' I said as steadily as I could, already feeling the hot flush of embarrassment trail up my neck and spreading in a red stain on my cheeks.

He merely nodded, barely even glancing in my direction. We quickly went back to working in silence, although I was now completely distracted by other thoughts swimming around my head. In the back of my mind I was wondering how on Earth I was going to avoid Cormac but the thought at the front of my head, the thought taking over most of my thoughts was Malfoy. I could feel my eyes continually flicking over to where he was working, watching as his quill scratched against the parchment, a small frown tugging at his mouth. What was going on with him? Why had he helped me? Why wasn’t he saying anything to me? I had given him the perfect ammunition to make fun of me, to put me in an awkward position and yet he wasn’t using it.

We had barely managed another ten minutes of work, before my stomach gave a rather embarrassing rumble. I felt my body stiffen slightly at the noise, but tried to act as if I hadn’t heard anything. I gave a quick glance at Malfoy and saw that he had given a quick glance in my direction, an unmistakable smirk forming on his lips. I turned back around and closed my eyes in mortification.

I tried to focus on what I was doing, hoping that I could forget about the growing hunger in my belly. I cursed myself for not eating more of the toast that Ginny had brought me that morning. Desperately I tried to hold my stomach in, hoping that would stop the rumbling, but it didn't work as my stomach let out an even more loud and unmistakable growl.

I winced, hoping that he hadn't heard. It wouldn't be long before he made some sarcastic remark at my expense and with every subsequent rumble I winced, waiting for the insult that was sure to follow. I heard a rustling behind me where Malfoy was standing and gave a quick glance to see what he was doing. For one crazy moment I wondered if he was reaching for his wand to hex me. However, nothing could have prepared me for what he was about to produce from his robe pocket.

I was stunned as he pulled out a chocolate frog and held it out to me. I merely stared at him, well aware that my eyebrows were so high up my forehead that they were probably meeting my hairline.

'Well, do you want it or not?' he asked, still holding the frog out to me.

My mouth opened in shock again. He was giving me a chocolate frog. He was actually offering to give me a chocolate frog. I still hadn't moved when he spoke again.

'Don’t go reading anything in to it,' he said clearly seeing my mind working overtime. ‘I just can’t stand listening to the sound of your stomach for much longer. Growling trolls make less noise than you.’

I fought to contain my blush of embarrassment, scowling at him instead. But what he said jolted me back to reality. Of course I couldn't take his chocolate. It no doubt was poisoned, seeing as it was Malfoy.

'No thanks,' I said shaking my head. 'I'm fine.'

Reading my hesitation and knowing full well the reason, he added. ‘Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would like to think that I could think up something more creative than poisoning a chocolate frog.’

‘I’ve no doubt,’ I said, my tone more biting than I intended.

He just mumbled a low, 'whatever,' and made a move to put the chocolate frog back into his pocket when my stomach gave an almighty rumble, even louder than the ones before.

I groaned at my body's perfect timing and looked back to Malfoy, to see him looking at me with one eyebrow raised. He pulled the frog back out of his pocket and held it out to me once more his eyebrow still raised, daring me to take it.

Never one to back down from a challenge I reached out and took the chocolate, muttering my thanks. He just nodded and went to back to cataloguing the books. I couldn't believe that I had just accepted food from Draco Malfoy. It's amazing what being hungry could make you overlook.

I tore the paper off the chocolate frog as quickly as I could manage and only hesitated slightly, before ramming the whole thing into my mouth. I chewed quickly, before swallowing, and I couldn't help the loud satisfied moan that escaped from my lips as the creamy chocolate slid down my throat, sending a warmth through my entire body. Merlin that tasted good. Totally normal and ordinary chocolate. I turned around to find Malfoy's eyes on me, before he quickly turned back to the books on the shelf.

We fell into silence again for the rest of our detention; however the silence was at least on my part, slightly awkward.

I couldn't help but wonder at Malfoy's actions. He had helped me out twice today. It may only have been a piece of chocolate, but it was actually something nice. Malfoy had done something nice to me. I had never seen him do anything like that before, not to anyone, least of all to someone like me.

I eyed him uneasily for the remainder of the detention, half expecting him to turn around and yell 'surprise, got you' or have him hex me, having lulled me into a false sense of security. But my worries were totally unfounded. He barely even looked my way, in fact he seemed to be looking anywhere but where I was. I just couldn't figure out this new attitude and it annoyed me. There was nothing I hated more than an unsolved puzzle.

When four o' clock finally came, Madame Pince came over and told Malfoy that he could go, since he had arrived on time for his detention. However she made me stay for the full three minutes extra, watching me work alone, counting down the exact seconds until I too could stop. I started to tidy up all of the pieces of parchment that we had been using, placing them back into a neat order. I tried my best not to glare at Madam Pince as I gave her the parchment back. I usually got on well with her, but her pettiness today annoyed me. Due to her stringency over three lousy minutes, I was left to tidy up alone, meaning that it was actually closer to quarter past four before I could actually leave.

I figured I would wait in the library until dinner, as it wasn't served until five and it would take me at least ten minutes to get back to the common room and then another ten to get back down so it hardly seemed worth it. I selected one of my favourite books and chose a quiet table away from everyone else enjoying a quiet moment of peace and solitude.

Just before five o’clock, I made my way down to the great hall. Malfoy's chocolate had kept me going, but now I was ravenous. I hesitated slightly at the entrance of the great hall. What if Cormac was in there? I still wasn't ready to deal with him yet. But I quickly snapped myself out if it. I was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. I was supposed to be brave and yet I was scared of facing a boy and owning up to my mistakes. I had faced far worse in this school and faced far worse people. I would handle Cormac if he was in there.

I walked into the great hall, ignoring the many people staring my way. No doubt no longer interested in the fact that I was part of the Golden Trio, but more likely because of my escapades the night before. I kept my eyes firmly ahead of me and kept my head held high. I was a proud Gryffindor and even though the petty gossip did bother me, there was no way that I would show it.

I sat myself down at the quiet Gryffindor table and dived straight into the food, moaning with satisfaction as I bit into turn roast beef. Every time someone else entered the great hall, my eyes snapped to the side to see who it was, giving a sigh of relief when I saw that it wasn't Cormac.

I was glad when Harry, Ginny and Ron finally came to join me at the dinner table. Ginny was still smirking at me, Harry looked slightly uncomfortable and Ron just looked angry, with his jaw tight. I could tell that they were waiting to see who was going to bring up the night before first, but I as damned sure that it wouldn't be me. I wasn't going to make it that easy for them.

'Hermione, how was detention?' Ginny asked, trying to keep the smirk off of her face, although I couldn't figure out what was so funny.

'Fine, thank you,' I replied keeping my tone light.

'How was Malfoy? He didn't give you a hard time did he?' Harry asked seeming concerned.

'No, he was fine actually. Not a derogatory insult in sight,’ I said diving into some chicken pie.

'So, em, it was completely uneventful. You didn't have any visitors then?' Ginny asked, straining to keep the excitement out of her voice.

I narrowed my eyes to look at Ginny. How the hell did she know? I groaned as I realised. Of course she must have told Cormac where I was. How else would he have known that I had detention in the library?

'Ginny, you didn't. Tell me that you had nothing to do with him turning up there,' I pleaded with her, although I already knew the answer.

'Well, he might have asked me and I may have let it slip where you would be.' Ginny said trying to keep her expression innocent.

I glared at her as she continued. 'Oh, come on, Hermione, he's cute and he's so into you and you need to let your hair down every once in a while.'

'Ginny, I will say this once and once only.’ I slammed my cutlery down onto the table beside me with a loud clatter. ‘I do not like Cormac and I never have. I was drunk and it was one kiss. That does not mean that I like him or want anything more with him and it certainly does not give you the right to interfere.' I said, my voice getting louder as I spoke. I could see Harry and Ron sitting wide eyed, determined to avoid the conversation, although I would swear that Ron had a slight smirk on his lips.

Ginny at least has the grace to look slightly remorseful. 'Look Hermione, I'm sorry I was only trying to help.’ However her remorse only lasted so long, flickering to intrigue in the blink of an eye. ‘Well what did you say to him? Did you let him down gently?' Ginny asked, trying to get more gossip.

'I haven't actually spoken to him yet.' I admitted.

'But he went to the library looking for you and you said you saw him in the library.' Ginny asked questioningly, clearly confused

I sighed, trying to think of a way to avoid saying what had actually happened, but nothing was coming to me. Lying was not a strong point.

'Well, I may have seen him coming and then I might have, sort of hid from him.' I leaned over to add another scoop of mashed potato to my plate, acting as if what I had said was perfectly normal.

Ginny's mouth dropped open, but Harry and Ron just burst out laughing, only stopping when I shot a deathly glare their way.

'Oh, Hermione, why didn't you just talk to him. He's completely head over heels for you and you can't keep him hanging on.'

'I'm perfectly aware of that, Ginny, but I will speak to him when I'm ready to speak to him. You know I'm not good at this sort of thing and I really didn't need to be doing it in front of Malfoy of all people.' I said, my voice getting louder again.

'How did you manage hide from him Hermione, especially if Malfoy was there?' Harry asked, trying very hard to keep the grin from his face as he sensed something I was holding back.

'It may have involved hiding behind a bookcase and practically lying on the floor.' I said grinning in spite of myself at the ridiculousness of the situation.

'But didn't Malfoy rat you out?' He asked with raised eyebrows.

'Nope. Believe me I was just as surprised as you,' I said in response to Harry's furrowed brow. 'But then he was probably just trying to get one up on Cormac. They're surprisingly similar you know. Always going on about 'my father' this and 'my father' that.

'But seriously Hermione,' Ginny began, re-joining the conversation, 'you are going to speak to Cormac, aren't you?'

'I suppose so. Eventually,' I added as an afterthought. I guess I did really have to talk to him at some point, but I was secretly hoping that he would get the hint if I just avoided him for long enough. After all it had worked the last time.

'Good, well now's your chance. He's just walked in.' Ginny was looking at me with a rather pointed expression on her face, practically daring me to do it.

My head flew round to see Cormac strutting into the hall with his group of friends and I noticed that he had people staring at him as well, although where I had been mortified, he seemed to be enjoying it.

'Oh shit.' I whispered. He was walking up the side of the table where I was sitting. I did not want to see him, especially in the great hall, in front of half the population of Hogwarts. I really didn't need an audience to my personal dramas. So I really had only one option left. Make a run for it. Again. Yes an extreme reaction, but Cormac had a way of making me act irrationally and I had been doing that enough these days. So in a bid to avoid more irrational behaviour, I ducked under the table, ignoring Harry's yelp of surprise as I gripped his thigh and quite literally pushed him to the side. I crawled up and slid up beside him on the opposite side of the table, swinging my legs over the side of the bench before standing up, brushing off the crumbs that were sticking to my knees and scurrying toward the great hall door. When I was about to pass Cormac, I let my hair fall over my face and I turned my head to the side to avoid him seeing me. Once I was past him, I all but ran out of the great hall, faltering only once when I caught the amused glance of a certain blonde wizard who was watching me the entire way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take just a minute to leave a comment. Even a few words means a lot. And don’t forget to add kudos or bookmark. They are much appreciated.   
> And have a look on tumblr for a chapter image, username is Purpleskye05.


	9. Chapter 9 - Rescues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He reached out his hand and put it to the back of my aching head and touched it very gently. I was completely frozen; I wasn’t even sure that I was breathing anymore. Malfoy had never touched me before.'

Chapter 9- Rescues

A/N- just a warning for scenes depicting sexual assault.

I had thought that living in a castle of over six hundred people, they would find something else to talk about. But I was to be proved wrong. Everywhere I went people seemed to be staring or whispering behind my back. General consensus seemed to be that Cormac and I had done more than just kiss. Apparently he had left the party shortly after I had, adding more fuel to the fire of their theories.

The night after my first detention I was subjected to an intense interrogation by both Parvati and Lavender who both seemed to be convinced that I was lying to them, despite my constant denials. If I hadn’t been with Cormac then where I had been because I hadn’t been in the common room when they got back? I hadn’t much felt like sharing that I had been sitting crying in an empty corridor so my vague explanations were doing nothing to persuade them otherwise.

Ron’s unexplained foul mood had lasted a few days, but the sight of me actively avoiding Cormac seemed to snap him out of whatever had been bothering him. Two years before, when I had first made the mistake of getting involved with Cormac, I found ignoring and avoiding to be a fairly effective tactic at dampening his interest. Cormac McLaggen was far too arrogant to actively chase a girl. He had far too high an opinion of himself to lower himself to that. The last time it had taken two whole days of ducking, diving and essentially hiding before he had given up and found a new target. Some fifth year who had been happy to fawn all over him, but this time my strategy didn’t seem to be working.

It was Wednesday and it had been five whole days since the party and he still hadn’t given up. Something that I was beginning to find wildly infuriating. Surely my lack of interest was a sure sign that I was in fact not interested, but I was beginning to think that he thought I was just playing hard to get. That he was actually enjoying the chase. Things weren’t helped by the fact that Ginny didn’t get why I was trying so hard to avoid him. In her words, he was tall, he was older, he was totally fit and I deserved to have some fun. Her brother wasn’t helping matters either. Ron seemed to find the whole situation utterly hilarious. When he wasn’t draped all over Lavender, his favourite past time seemed to making fun of me. For weeks Ron has barely even looked at me, never mind spoken to me, yet now that he was, I couldn’t help but wish that he hadn’t bothered.

We were sitting at our usual spot in the great hall, having dinner. I was already in a bad mood as I has spent the day avoiding Cormac and had the joy of my mid-week detention to look forward to. That was when Ron started up his latest hobby of Hermione baiting.

‘What? No, crawling under tables tonight, Hermione,' Ron asked a little too gleefully, as him and Lavender sat down at the table opposite me during dinner. I wasn’t sure what was bothering me more; his words, or the fact that he had his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.

‘Nope, not tonight, Ronald,’ I said with a forced smile on my face, although the fact that it was said through gritted teeth, might have lessened the impact.

'What's in your pumpkin juice tonight then; bit of sherry? Nettle wine? Brandy? We all know how much you like your alcohol these days,' he said grinning, turning to Lavender who was openly giggling beside him, as if he we standing on stage doing a full blown comedy routine.

'No, actually, Ronald, it’s firewhiskey today. I figured I needed something strong to get through another dinner with you.’

Either ignoring or completely missing my insult, Ron carried on undeterred. 'Look, Hermione, Cormac!' Ron said loudly, pointing over to the door. This unfortunately was another of the jokes that Ron found absolutely hysterical. The first time he had done, it, I had instinctively ducked in an attempt to hide, knocking over my pumpkin juice and spilling it all over myself, only to realise that he was joking when he was practically rolling around the floor with laughter. Not willing to fall for it again, I kept my eyes steadily on him, determined not to move them more than a millimetre from his face, steadily ignoring Lavender’s face buried in his neck, hiding her laughter.

'Oh, come on, Hermione, you got to admit, it is funny,' Ron laughed.

I glared at him in response. 'No, Ronald, I really don't think that I do,' I replied through clenched teeth.

'Come on mate, give it a rest now,' Harry said, throwing me a pitying look. He had made a few jokes at first, but Harry had seen how much it had been bothering me and knew to stop, unlike the idiotic wizard sitting opposite me.

'What? It’s not my fault that she’s so uptight all of the time.’ I flinched back as if he’d slapped me. ‘You do realise that this may never happen again. I'm taking my opportunity whilst it's here.'

Lavender once again snorted in laughter and Ron turned to her, to share in the joke. The joke that was apparently me. I could feel my nose begin to prickle and I had to blink back the unbidden tears that suddenly filled my vision. Was that why he had ignored me all summer? Why he had chosen to move on with Lavender Brown of all people? Because he thought I was uptight? Yes, I knew I was a little more serious than others but it wasn’t as if we’d had much time for parties and laughter in the last year.

'What is that supposed to mean?' I asked, my voice small and unsteady, betraying me emotions.

Harry looked incredibly uncomfortable, sensing my hurt but not knowing what to do about it.

'Come on, Hermione.’ Ron continued, not sensing that anything was wrong. ‘It's not every day that you get drunk and go around kissing random guys. Got to admit, it's good to know you're just like the rest of us.'

'I am nothing like you, Ronald.’ Anger made my voice sound stronger that I felt. ‘It took me having a lot to drink to make a fool of myself; you on the other hand seem to manage that just fine every day in life without the influence of alcohol,' I seethed at him, watching as his eyebrows shot up in surprise as seeing me losing control of my temper. 'And for your information,' I continued on a roll, 'I do not go around kissing random guys and when I do kiss someone it actually means something; unlike some people I could mention.'

Ron furrowed his brows at my last statement, seeming confused by my anger and the abrupt turn in the conversation. I realised that I had been shouting and at some point during my rant had stood up and slammed my hands down on the table. I also noticed that a few people around me had gone quiet and turned to stare, hoping that they would get to see another Hermione Granger floor show.

Feeling mortified, I grabbed my bag and fled from the hall, leaving a very confused Harry and Ron behind. I mentally berated myself. I really hadn't meant to bring up the kiss with Ron. In truth I was over him; I really didn't want to be with him, but he just kept hurting me. It hurt that he had moved on so quickly. That he could so brazenly flaunt a new relationship on front of me. It hurt that he clearly so little of our kiss. That he apparently thought so little of me.

I made my way to the library, arriving early, which made a change after arriving a shocking three minutes late the time before. I was sure however that Madame Pince wouldn't let me away early, but I decided to start the detention anyway. There was no point hanging around and waiting for Malfoy to arrive and I decided that I would rather be doing something to help and take my mind of the whole Ron/ Cormac saga.

I had been busy working for around fifteen minutes, when the sound of footsteps made me glance up and see Malfoy standing at the end of the aisle. He took one glance at my appearance when his eyes filled with the look of bewilderment which quickly turned into the usual sneer that I had seen shot in my direction many times before.

I would like to have said that his look was unwarranted, but I feared that it wasn’t. Unfortunately in the fifteen minutes that I had been working, I had so far managed to make what could only be described as a complete and utter mess. I had miscalculated how many parchments I could carry at one time and had managed to drop all the pieces of parchment that had been neatly organised in alphabetical order. Malfoy had just happened to walk in at the exact moment that I was crawling about the floor, quill in my mouth, wand twisted in my hair to keep it out of my face, trying to pick up the disarrayed pieces of parchment and put them back into the right order.

I braced, waiting for the sarcastic and scathing comment that was sure to come. Some comment about me being in my rightful place at his feet. A comment about be scrabbling about on the floor where I belonged, but strangely, it never came. Instead he just lifted his wand and gave it a quick swish. Wincing, I closed my eyes and waited with baited breath for the curse or hex that I was sure he had just fired at me, but after a long pause filled with silence, I slowly opened them again to find that the pile of parchments were now stacked neatly on the floor in front of me.

I turned around to face Malfoy, who had gone over to the nearby table and put his bag down.

'Do you mind? I was doing that,' I said pointedly, more out of principle than actual annoyance.

'No, not really,’ he shrugged. As I opened my mouth to argue, he cut me off. ‘I would actually like to get this over with. I wasn't prepared to wait all night while you crawled about on your hands and knees like a common muggle.’ His eyes flicked over me again, his lips twisted with that usual disapproving sneer I was so accustomed to.

'And what exactly is wrong the muggle way?' I asked, pulling myself to my feet. As he strutted past me without a word I found myself adding, 'Although I don't know why I'm bothering to ask you that. We all know what your opinion is of muggles. My voice combined with a derisive snort told him exactly what I thought of him.

His expression darkened and he took one menacing step towards me until he was looming over me. Instinctively, I scuttled backwards in return and he shook his head in disgust. 'Think whatever you like, Granger, but you know fuck all about me.’ His eyes flicked to mine and the emotion slid from his face, reverting back to bored. 'Now, if you don't mind, I would rather get this over with. I don't want to spend any more time here than I have to.’

Feeling chastised, we reverted to silence and stayed that was for the remainder of the detention. Despite his completely cold and distant attitude, he worked just as hard.. It was a hard job to do by yourself, as I had so spectacularly proved earlier and I found I was glad for his help.

When we finished the final book on the list we were working on, I stood up slowly, stretching out my legs and arms. It felt good to finally stand up, after having to sit on the floor of the library for so long, which I'd had to do as the last books on the list were on the bottom shelf.

I made a move to start tidying up, when Malfoy surprised stopped me in my tracks. 'Go,' he said. ‘I'll do it.'

I looked at him with suspicious eyes. Malfoy who lived with an army of house elves who I was sure catered to his every whim and who had never offered to help anyone else in his life was actually volunteering to do extra work. And not only that but he was actually volunteering to help me.

'You did it last time, Granger. Don't get used to it though. This is a one time offer.’

I lingered for a moment and thought about staying to help, but then again if Malfoy was actually volunteering to do work, who was I to stop him?

‘Ok, then, well thanks,' I said picking up my bag and walking away. As I reached the end of the aisle, I turned back and watched Malfoy tidying up. I found myself shaking my head in bemusement, before I turned and walked out of the library.

Exhausted and desperate for nothing more than a bath and an early night, I made my way back to the Gryffindor common room. I was debating with myself which book I should read that night, when I noticed a figure standing at the end of the corridor. I looked up and my heart immediately jumped up into my throat and my whole body immediately stiffened as I realised who it was that was coming towards me - Cormac.

I ran through the options in my head; turn and go back to the library, I was only one corridor away and hope to lose him in there, or just keep walking and get the inevitable conversation over. Taking a deep, long breath I decided that I really did have to talk to him. The whole running away thing had been going on for far too long.

I gripped my bag tightly and tried to walk confidently towards him, although my legs felt like lead, feeling heavier with every step that I took. It seemed to take forever to reach him and when I spoke, I tried to keep my voice light and natural sounding.

'Em, hi, Cormac. How have you been?' I asked as if I was greeting a long lost acquaintance and not someone who I had been intimate with just a few nights before and had been running away from ever since.

'I'm fine,' he replied, not seeming to sense my awkwardness. 'Better now that you're here.' 

I gave him a weak smile and made a move to walk past him. A move that was suddenly halted as he stepped in front of me. 

I looked up at him questioningly. He was smiling, looking down at me, yet there was a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. A look that made me very aware of just how alone we were.

'So, Hermione,' Cormac continued, clearly oblivious how uncomfortable I was feeling, 'I was thinking that you and me should do something. How about the next Hogsmeade trip?’ He reached out, trailing his hand down my arm. My stomach twisted and not in a good way. He leaned his head down and lowered his voice intimately, ‘I'm thinking you, me and a quiet corner in Madame Pudifoots.’

Once again, I managed a tremulous smile, trying to keep the distaste from my face. Madame Pudifoot's was a notorious lover's haunt and a trip there tended to indicate only one intention. Although, I thankfully had a valid excuse for not going. for the first time, I was intensely grateful that I had been given detentions every Saturday, meaning that Hogsmeade would not be an option for a long time. 

'Oh, I'm really sorry, Cormac,' I said, trying at least to sound somewhat apologetic, but finding it hard to keep the small trace of a smile off of my face, 'I have detention that day, so unfortunately I won't be able to go.

'Oh, that's a shame,' he said, looking actually quite crestfallen.

'Mmm,' I replied not quite agreeing, 'so I'll just be going then,' I managed to say, sensing my opportunity to leave and trying to move past him to get to the door, unfortunately he shifted in front of me once more, forcing me to look at him again.

'Well if Saturday's no good, then how about next Sunday? I'm sure we can find something to keep us entertained in the castle for a whole day,' he said, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

I had a feeling I wasn't doing quite as well at keeping my face straight anymore. The horror at that prospect must have been clearly evident on my face.

'Em… I don't think I can, I have to, um, study that day,' I stuttered trying to find an excuse. 'I'll have loads of work to do that day since I'm missing the whole day on Saturday,' I said trying to back up my story and make it sound a little more believable and not just the pathetic excuse that I knew it really was. I knew that I should just talk to him. To put an end to this once and for all. To explain to him that I wasn't interested, but something about our whole conversation, standing alone in an empty corridor had me feeling distinctly uncomfortable. I would wait till tomorrow. For the cold light of day and people around. Wanting the conversation to be over, wanting to leave, I took a step around him again. 'Anyway, goodnight, Cormac. It's been a long day, so I'd better get back to the common room.' 

I had barely taken a step past him when his hand caught my wrist and pulled me back so that I was once again facing him. 'Granger, stop walking away from me,' he said, a hint of anger edging into his voice. I looked up at him startled. Cormac was always charming. I had never seen him lose his temper before, ever, but I had seen it. That flare of darkness that flashed across his eyes. Although as quickly as it had came, it was gone, his cool and confident mask, his easy smile back in place, yet I could sense that darkness lingering, hiding in plain sight, just under the surface. Cormac took a step closer to me, and I instinctively took a step back. He raised one arm, placing his palm on the stone wall above me head. It was an innocent gesture, but one that had my heart give a flutter of unease. Why did I suddenly have the feeling that I was being herded- being boxed in. 

I swallowed deeply, trying to steady my breathing. Trying not to let him see my panic. 'Look, Cormac. I'm sorry. Really I am. You're a really nice guy but I'm sorry, I'm just not looking for a relationship. 

‘Granger, I know how you feel about me,’ he said, his voice low and purring, ignoring my last statement. He bent his arm at the elbow, stepping in closer to me. I tried to step back, but my back hit the wall behind me. ‘That kiss meant something, I know it did.’ He leant forward, his lips brushing against my ear. ‘As much as the chase has been fun, I’m ready for the prize now.’ 

I felt his words, like ice trickling over my body. I put my hands up in front of me, like a protective shield. 'Cormac, please, you have to listen to what I'm saying. I'm really sorry for what happened and I like you, as a friend, but nothing more. I'm sorry but I was drunk when I kissed you and it was a mistake.' I forced myself to meet his gaze. Hoping that he could see the sincerity written there. 'I just don't feel that way about you.'

'You're lying,' he growled. 'I know you care about me. I heard what you said earlier.'

I blinked in confusion. 'What? What did I say?'

He reached up a hand and pushed my hair behind my ear and I had to force myself not to flinch.'In the great hall, at dinner. You said to Weasley that when you kiss someone, it means something.'

My eyes fluttered closed and I bit back a groan as my words came rushing back to me. I had said that. But then I hadn't been thinking of Cormac when I had uttered those words; I had been thinking of Ron. 

'I've got to admit, Hermione; I was so relieved to hear you say that. I was beginning to think that you'd changed your mind about me, but when I heard you say that, I knew that I had to say something to you - that I was in with a shot.'

'Cormac, I'm sorry, but that, what I said, it wasn't about you.'

My words seem to register in his head, as he jerked his head back, his eyes boring into mine, as if he was to find the lie in my words. But what I hadn't counted on, what I hadn't foreseen, was just how he would interpret those words. I realised my mistake, the instant that darkness resurfaced in his eyes, spreading across his entire body in a mask of anger and rage. 

'You've been seeing someone behind my back,' he seethed. 

I had to fight with myself not to roll my eyes, but the conversation was beginning to veer into the realm of ridiculous. 'How could I be seeing someone behind your back when we aren't even going out?' I said a little too fiercely and instantly regretting it. Now was really not the time to be making him even madder.

'You were seeing someone else?’ he said disbelievingly, ignoring my words. Incredulity was written all over his face. Of course, I should have realised. I should have put it together sooner. Cormac may have been a Gryffindor, but he wouldn't have been out of place in the Slytherin common room, being nearly as proud as even Draco Malfoy. 

'No,' I said, trying to backtrack, not wanting to admit, that yes, I had been using him. Even if it wasn't for the reason that he thought. 

'But you were using me?'

My eyes flashed to his in guilt, before I could stop them, but he saw it anyway. 

‘What, you just fancied a bit of cheering up then, trying to make yourself feel better, trying to make some other guy jealous?’ 

I immediately looked to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. I might not have realised it at the time but that was exactly what I had been doing. At that moment I just needed a bit of comfort, I needed to know that after Ron, someone would still want to be with me, I wanted to show Ron that even if he didn’t want me, it didn’t mean that no one else ever would. I might not have said the words, but apparently I didn’t need to. My guilt was written all over my face.

'You were using me to make some other guy jealous,' he asked in a low, incredulous tone, his mind working, trying to put the pieces together. 'Who?' He bit out.

Once again I refused to answer, which only seemed to flare his anger even more.

'Tell me who,' he demanded again, stepping dangerously close to me once again. I flinched back against the wall. 'Potter? Finnegan? Thomas? Weasley?’

My eyes flitted to his face as he said Ron's name before I could think, before I could stop them.

'Weasley?' Cormac asked again, in a disbelieving voice. 'You would choose Weasley over me?'

Cormac pushed away from me and pulled his hands up to his head in frustration, messing up his usually perfect hair, which added with the angry eyes, only made him look even more crazed. As he started pacing up and down, muttering angrily to himself, I sensed an opportunity to escape and so I slowly started to edge along the wall moving closer towards the door. I had barely got a metre closer to the door before Cormac spotted me moving away, when he whipped out his wand and before I could even register what was happening I was pulled backwards and slammed hard into the wall behind me, my head whipping back to smack against the cold, hard stone.

Tears of pain filled my eyes and everything in front of me began spinning wildly. Before I could stop myself, my knees buckled and I was slid to the ground. I always wondered about people who had said that they had seen stars. But now I knew. For right in front of my eyes, all I could see were bright twinkling little lights, darting about in front of me. Part of me knew that they weren't real, but that didn't stop me from trying to reach out and grab them. But as soon as I reached out my hands, they were seized and gripped tight.

The hands around my wrists, pulled me to my feet and pushed me roughly against the wall. Blinking rapidly I forced my eyes to see straight, trying to steady my vision. When my eyesight finally settled and the twinkly lights had finally disappeared, I realised that Cormac had both of my wrists in a tight grip, my hands held up level with my head, his body learning into mine, holding me upright. Up close I could see the brown of his eyes had disappeared completely, overtaken with the blackness of rage. 

Needing to be free, I squirmed against his hold, but he was immovable. Holding me firmly in place. I was completely powerless. I could feel my wand sticking out of my back pocket, digging painfully into my back, completely out of my reach. No matter how much I wriggled or fought Cormac's grip, he was bigger and stronger than me and I couldn't get free. Every bit of me, every instinct I had told me to fight and claw and scratch at him, until he let me go, but looking at the rage in his eyes, I knew that it wasn't going to help. The only thing that it would succeed in doing is to make him even more furious. If that was even possible. Realising that I wouldn't be able to fight him physically, I decided to try a different tactic.

'Cormac, please let me go. You're hurting me,' I said, looking him straight in the eye, the hurt and pleading filling my voice. I really hoped that it might be enough to bring him back to his senses.

'What? And let you go running back to Weasley?’ His voice with low, rumbling with anger. ‘You have made a fool of me. What will everyone say? You have humiliated me. Nobody gets to use me and then walk away.' His grip tightened around my wrists, causing me to whimper again in pain. 'You are not leaving me. You care about me Hermione. I know it. I just have to make you see it.'

I barely had time to register what he had he had said, before he closed the minute space between us, pressing his body even deeper into mine and his lips started their descent.

I felt the heat and moisture of his breath on my cheek as I turned my head desperately away from him, begging him to stop. He let go of one hand around my wrist which I immediately used to try and push against him. I may as well have been trying to push stone. His hand roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to turn around and face him and grinding my already pained head against the rough stones of the wall behind me. As as winced in pain, he brought his head once again down to mine, his lips traced over my skin stopping when he reached my ear, whispering in a voice that made my blood run cold, 'I will have you, Granger. One way or the other.'

He let go of my other hand and I immediately used it to join my other one in trying to push him off, stilling in shock when he used his hand to snake down my side, clutching at the material of my skirt. Feeling the fear claw its way up my throat I gripped his wrist, trying desperately to pull his hand away, but his hand continued to trail it's way up my inner thigh.

'No, Cormac don't. Please,' I begged, feeling the first tear roll down my cheek.

'Come on, you know you like it. Don't try telling me this isn't what you wanted.'

As I opened my mouth to reply, he swooped down, bringing his lips to mine and forcing his tongue inside my mouth at the same time his other hand reached down the front of my open shirt, roughly grabbing my breast. I could feel the hardness of him, pressed against my stomach. 

It was that feeling, that brought me out of my stupor. The knowledge of what he was going to do to me that made me scream out 'No!' That made me fight and claw and push against him with everything I had. I managed to put my hands to his shoulders, simultaneously biting down on his tongue and pushing him away with everything I had.

For a brief moment, I thought that I had actually managed to move him, as he suddenly moved away from me, although it took only a moment longer to realise that he hadn't moved away from me at all, he was pulled away.

With Cormac no longer pressed up against me, holding me up, my legs buckled beneath me and I sank down to the floor.

A sudden grunt of pain quickly alerted me to the fact that there was a fight going on right in front of my eyes. Cormac was currently on the floor, crying out in pain as a shiny black shoe was thrust into his chest. An Italian, elf made shiny black shoe that I knew all too well. A shoe belonging to Draco Malfoy. 

It was strange, that after what had just happened, but I felt strangely numb. I watched almost apathetic to the fight in front me. Watching the splatter of blood, the quick movements, listening to the pained grunts and the sound of fists connecting with flesh; all as if I was watching a mildly interesting play put on specially for me. Draco Malfoy, looked quite terrifying, I thought. I already knew what he was capable of, yet seeing the raw physical power that he possessed, made him seem even more terrifying. Although, strangely, I found that I wasn't afraid. Wasn't that bizarre? Maybe I had a concussion. That would explain it. 

Another pained grunt, followed by a strange crack; a broken nose I thought, made me focus on the fight happening before my eyes. Although, I wasn't sure that the definition of a fight was entirely accurate. Could it be a fight if only person was fighting? Maybe a beating was more accurate, as Cormac seemed incapable of hitting Malfoy, either with his fists or his wand. I watched Malfoy relentlessly cursing and hitting Cormac and I realised that he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. It wasn't that I was feeling pity for Cormac. It wasn't that I didn't think that he got what he deserved. It was more that I was sitting on the floor with a splitting headache and I wanted to leave, although I wasn't entirely sure that my legs wouldn't buckle beneath me when I tried. 

Ignoring the fact that my skull felt like it was cracked down the middle, I forced myself to my feet, albeit shakily. Clinging to the wall for support, I pulled my wand out from my back pocket and cast a barrier between the two wizards, ending the fight. 

'Malfoy, stop, that's enough,' I managed to say, my voice stronger than I thought it would be.

He gave me a look that clearly said he thought that I was crazy. 'Are you kidding, Granger? That bastard got what he deserved.'

'That may be true, but he's down and I think you've more than made your point,' I said, letting down my shield.

Cormac seemed to have recovered slightly as he started to moan on the floor. 'What the fuck, Malfoy. What the hell was that for?' Cormac questioned, glaring at Malfoy, his hand pressing his nose gingerly. 

'Fuck sake, McLaggen, perhaps this is too complex for even your limited IQ so I’ll use small words so you can keep up. When a girl says no, you don’t fucking force yourself on her.’

'I wasn't doing anything that she didn't ask for. She's been gagging for it all week,' he said, slowly pulling himself up from the floor.

At that I saw red and the sound of my hand striking across his face echoed throughout the hall and I took an immense amount of pleasure in seeing his head fly to the side with a bright red handprint appearing on his face.

'How dare you! How can you think that I’ve been interested in you? I've been trying to avoid you all week you arrogant arsehole. I was just trying to be nice; I was trying to let you down gently. I was trying not to hurt your feelings,' I screamed, my angry tears beginning to make their way down my face again.

Despite the bruised and swollen eye, bloody and broken nose and bright red handprint on his cheek, Cormac had regained some of his composure as his bloodied lip twisted as he looked at me furiously and took a step towards me, his hand outstretched. Malfoy quickly stepped forward blocking his movement, placing himself between us.

'Yeah, well that worked out well,' he spat, pointing to the blood pouring down his face. 'You know what; you're not even worth it. No shag is worth this amount of agro.'

His words echoed in the silence of the hall and as they sank into my brain, I felt my entire body tense up with complete and utter fury. I gripped my wand tightly and was just about to raise it to make sure that McLaggen would never be able to have kids again, but Malfoy got there first.

I watched in amazement as Malfoy, swung his fist straight into Cormac's face sending him flying against the wall. He slumped down the wall in quite a comical way that would have made me laugh if my mouth hadn't been hanging wide open in shock. Malfoy took a step forward, grabbed him by the collar to drag him back up and pushed him towards the door in front of us.

'Get out of here, now,' he almost growled, 'before I really lose my temper.'

Cormac eyed Malfoy, sizing him up but seemed to realise that there was no way that he could win and so started to retreat, crawling backward before he scrambled to his feet.

'Oh and McLaggen,’ he called out to Cormac’s retreating back, ‘if you ever touch her, hurt her or so much as even look in her direction again, you can be damned sure that I will make it impossible for you to touch another woman again for as long as you live. Even if they do happen to be willing. Now, you have to the count of three to get your sorry arse out of here. One,' he said raising his wand threateningly.

It turned out that it only took to the count of one, before Cormac turned and fled out of the corridor.

Malfoy stood in front of me still completely tense, keeping his eyes on the door that Cormac had just left by. His shoulders were rapidly rising and falling and I found that I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as my legs buckled beneath me and for the second time I fell to floor.

The sound of me sliding to the floor obviously shook Malfoy out of whatever trance he was in. He turned around, his expression still full of fury which turned wary when they met my curious gaze. He bent slowly down, crouching down to face me and I held my breath with the shock of his closeness. After what Cormac had just done, I was wary. He reached out his hand and put it to the back of my aching head and touched it very gently. I was completely frozen; I wasn't even sure that I was breathing anymore. Malfoy had never touched me before.

He pulled his hand back and let out a low throaty growl as he examined his fingers. I realised that they had blood on them. My blood. My muggle blood. The blood that he thought was filthy. He didn’t even flinch.

Malfoy pulled out his wand and I edged away from him, suddenly very afraid. The stony look on his face slipped for only a split second before quickly reappearing, making me wonder if I had actually imagined it.

'I'm not going to hurt you,' he said gently, 'This needs to be healed.'

As he spoke, I couldn't help but look up to his face examining him with curiosity, wondering who the person in front of me really was, because the Draco Malfoy that I had known for seven years had never once been kind or gentle, especially not to me. I found myself staring into his eyes, taking a sharp gasp of breath as I did. His eyes were beautiful. They had always seemed so cold and unfeeling, a steely, hard, flat grey. But now up close I realised just how wrong I had been. They were a mixture of bright silver ringed in a soft grey. But what surprised me was the small flecks of the palest blue, like the sky on a cold winters day. I was surprised that there were also small flecks of green dancing about in the light. How could one pair of eyes contain so many colours? They were mesmerising.

Realising that I was staring at him and hadn’t actually answered his question, I felt myself flush pink I gave him a quick nod of agreement and turned around so that the back of my head was facing him. I closed my eyes as I felt a warmth spread through the back of my head and the pain subsided. Turning back around to look at Malfoy I saw that he had stood up straight again, towering over me. I felt so small sitting curled up on the floor at his feet.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a noise behind us made us both jump and turn. I thought for one horrible moment that Cormac had come back, but I let out a sigh of relief when I noticed that it was only Harry. However my relief was short lived when he raised his wand and in a flash of red light, Malfoy was thrown backward and slammed into the wall opposite from me. He groaned in pain and looked around confusedly for his wand. When he realised it was now tucked tightly in Harry’s hand, he stood up quickly, swaying ever so slightly and took not even half a step towards Harry, before he was thrown back once again, slumping to the floor, lying unmoving with closed eyes.

Satisfied that Malfoy wasn't going to move, Harry finally rushed over to me, crouching down beside me, a worried look on his face. 'Hermione, what the hell happened? Did Malfoy do this?' he asked, pointing to the blood that was still in my hair.

'Harry, what have you done?’ I tried to push past him to check on Malfoy but he gently pushed me back to the floor.

‘Nowhere near as much as he deserves,’ Harry fumed. ‘He’s bloody lucky I didn’t kill him.’

‘No, Harry it wasn't him. Honestly, it wasn't Malfoy,' I said more forcefully when he gave me a doubting look.

'Then what the hell happened? And don't tell me it's nothing, Hermione,' he said, seeing me open my mouth, 'Why are you crying; why is your head bleeding and why the hell was Malfoy standing over you holding his wand?'

I had to admit, it probably did look bad, but for some reason I was desperate for Harry to know that it wasn't Malfoy.

'Harry, promise me you won't freak out,' I asked, looking him in the eye, worried that he would go on the rampage and curse McLaggen into oblivion.

'Fine, now tell me.'

'No, Harry, promise me,' I urged, needing him to say the words.

He narrowed his eyes, flicking them in Malfoy’s direction before returning them to me. 'Fine, I promise,' he said resignedly, 'now tell me, what happened?'

'Ok,' I said sighing. I focused on the wall opposite, knowing that if I looked Harry in the eye then I wouldn’t be able to say it.

'Earlier tonight I left detention and I was walking back and well, you know how Cormac's been trying to find me all week, well he found me.' I paused, hearing Harry take a sharp intake of breath.

'He was waiting here for me and he, well, he…'

'He tried to force you,' Harry said, through gritted teeth.

I could only nod my head, not wanting to say the words. Harry put his arms tightly around me, pulling me into his chest and began gently stroking my hair, as I sobbed into his shoulder.

After a moment, Harry suddenly lifted his head. 'So where does he come into all of this.’ He nodded towards Malfoy, who was beginning to come around.

'He…' I hesitated, finding myself unable to say the words.

'He what?' said Harry more forcefully, looking me straight in the eyes.

'He helped me,' I said eventually.

'He helped you,' Harry said slowly, clearly not believing me, 'How?'

'He pulled Cormac off of me and then quite spectacularly beat the crap out of him.'

'Are you serious?' Harry said in a disbelieving voice. 'Well, at least that saves me from doing it.'

Malfoy started to groan again and began stirring. 'Harry, I'm honestly fine. You should go back to the common room.'

'No way, Hermione, I'm not leaving you here,' Harry said forcefully, standing up.

'No, please, Harry, you promised to do what I asked. Besides neither of us,’ I motioned over his shoulder to Malfoy, ‘can afford to get into any more trouble, least of all me. Please just let me smooth everything over with Malfoy and I'll meet you back in the common room soon.'

Harry seemed to think over my words, but seemed to reluctantly agree with me that it made sense and so he pulled me to my feet, before he reluctantly left.

'You have five minutes, Hermione, before I come back,' Harry warned before handing me back Malfoy's wand and disappearing through the door.

I stood for a minute, completely unsure what to do. Part of me wanted to run away and never come back to this corridor again, but the other part knew that I couldn't leave Malfoy alone and hurt in the corridor, especially after he had just saved me. That would have been wrong. And besides, I was a Gryffindor. It wasn’t in my nature to be a coward.

I moved over to the stirring body on the floor and gently shook his shoulder, jumping back when his eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright.

'Are you ok?' I asked, regretting the question as soon as it was out of my lips.

Obviously he wasn't alright. His nose was bleeding and he had blood on the back of his head similar to mine.

He seemed to agree with me that the question was stupid, as he gave me a pointed look before saying, 'What does it look like, Granger? Thought you were meant to be smart.'

I shot daggers at him and readied my response before I remembered that I was actually incredibly grateful to the beat up wizard sitting in front of me. I passed him back his wand which he took with a nod. We sat in silence for another moment, sitting side by side against the cool stone wall.

'Thank you, by the way. For, you know,' I said quickly, avoiding his look.

'Don't mention it.' He wiped his hand across his face, pulling it back to examine the red blood staining his white skin. 'Although maybe I won't bother next time if this is what happens when you try to do something good.'

My stomach twisted uncomfortably at his words and we sat in an awkward silence for a long moment. ‘I'm really sorry about Harry. But honestly, thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come along when you did.'

He just gave a small nod and raised his one eyebrow, his frown never leaving his face.

'Who would have thought it? Me saying thank you to you and you saving me.'

'Yeah, I would never have believed it either,' he said, a strange look passing over his face as we fell into another awkward silence. I did my best not to look at him, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden, but couldn't help it when my gaze shifted slightly in his direction and caught sight of his bloodied hand. Bloodied from beating Cormac no doubt.

'Do you want me to heal it?' I asked, indicating his hand, unsure if he would want me to help him.

He just shrugged his shoulders and held out his hand, his gaze following my wand moving across his hand, face and head as it healed all of his wounds.

'Thanks,' he said, examining the back of his, no doubt checking I hadn't left any scars.

'No, problem,' I said lightly, feeling slightly glad that he was the one thanking me for once. 'But you know you wouldn't have got those cuts on your hand and face if you had used your wand. I thought you were against the muggle way of doing things,' I asked, remembering his comment to me earlier in the library.

'Yeah well, sometimes the muggle way is better,' he said deadly serious.

'Oh my god, I said slowly. 'Did the 'oh so wonderful' pure- blood Draco Malfoy, just admit that the muggle way is better than the wizards way?' I asked half teasingly, half astonished at the words that had just came out of his mouth.

'When it comes to beating someone to a pulp, the muggle way is just more satisfying. But that's the only thing that’s better,’ he said giving me a pointed look.

'Yeah, but still,' I said, not quite ready to let the moment pass. 'I never thought I'd see the day.'

'Yeah, well, like I said earlier, you really don't know me, Granger,' he said finally turning to look me straight in the eye, unleashing the full power of his stare.

I swallowed deeply, at the close proximity of his face. I was suddenly finding it difficult to breath, unable to tear my gaze away.

'No, I don't suppose that I do,' I said almost in a whisper.

His gaze stayed firmly on my face, his eyes flicking briefly down to my lips. His brows knitted together as if he was confused. I couldn’t say who moved for first. Whether he leaned towards me, I leaned towards him or we both leaned towards each other I honestly didn’t know, but we were so close that I knew if I moved my head forward the merest inch, then our lips would be touching. 

When his face was close enough for me to feel his warm breath against my skin, my own breath suddenly hitched and in that moment, I abruptly came to my senses. This was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy! What the hell was I doing? Without a word I abruptly pulled back from him, ignoring his shocked expression as I pushed myself to my feet, before I span round and practically ran down the corridor towards the door.

I had just pulled the door open, when a loud noise behind me made me turn around just in time to see Malfoy punch the stone wall, his pained cry echoing throughout the long corridor. I quickly closed the door behind me and ran the entire way back to the common room, barely aware of where I was going as many confusing thoughts and a pair of intense grey eyes swam around my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos. bookmarks and comments are all really appreciated, even if it just a few words, so please take just a minute of your time to show some appreciation. 
> 
> Also if are on Tumblr I have uploaded a new chapter image.


	10. Chapter 10 - Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Well I just wanted to say thank you, again, for what you did last night. I wanted to say thank you for helping me.'

Chapter 10 : Thanks

‘I’m going to kill him,’ Harry threatened, his green eyes, sparking with open hostility as he laced in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

I winced at the aggression in his voice. Harry always had a hot temper, and even though he was not a naturally aggressive person, I still winced at the fiery anger in his eyes.

‘Are you alright, Hermione?’ he asked, seeing my flinch. ‘Do you need healed? A pain potion?

I shook my head. ‘No. Malfoy healed me?’

‘Malfoy? Why would he do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ I sighed, wondering the answer to that question myself. ‘He was just there.’

Harry stopped his pacing, to look down at me, his face speculative. ‘But he hates you.’

I flinched again, not because I was in physical pain, but because of a different type of pain. Harry was right. Draco Malfoy did hate me. He always had. No doubt he always would. Yet I was the idiot who had been so sure that he had been about to kiss me.

I closed my eyes, fighting off the image of grey eyes glittering with blues and green staring into mine. Of the feel of his breath ghosting across my face. ‘ Yes, Harry, I know.’

‘Well then, why would he help you?’

‘I don’t know, Harry!’ I snapped, suddenly very, very tired. . ‘You’d have to ask him.’

I turned my eyes away, to stare into the fire, watching as the flames leaped and twirled in a fiery dance. I could feel the heat lick at my skin, but inside I felt cold, frozen and numb. I didn’t want to feel it, because if I felt it then I might feel other things. That burning ball of fear, and anger and helplessness that I had pushed away to the back of my mind, might burst free and if it burst free, I didn’t know if I would be able to contain it.

‘Hermione,’ Harry said gently, all traces of his anger gone. ‘Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to go to the hospital wing? Or… or do you want to talk about it? About what happened?’

I shook my head, not sure if I was able to form any words. I could feel that ball swelling inside of me and my lip trembled as I struggled to keep it contained.

‘It’s okay to talk about it, you know. It might help.’

I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it, but the pain inside of me swelled so big that it had nowhere else to go but to break free. Harry sat down beside me, pulling me into his arms as the pain exploded in a series of tears and choking sobs.

Harry held me tightly to him, stroking my back. ‘I’ve been such an idiot,’ I sobbed, my tears soaking into Harry’s jumper.

‘Hermione, this is not your fault. You know that right?’

I could only nod at Harry's words, although deep down I wasn’t sure that was true. I had let my emotions take over and I had lost control. However inadvertently I had led Cormac on. I had tried to play a game that I could never win. If it hadn’t been for Draco Malfoy, I didn’t even want to imagine what would have happened. But I had seen it. I had seen it in Cormac’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for Draco, he wouldn’t have stopped. So as Harry continued to hold me tightly, rocking me back and forth, allowing me to cry all over his shoulder, I eventually fell asleep in his arms thinking of how much I owed to Draco Malfoy.

Pain. It was the first thing that I felt when I opened my eyes. Malfoy might have healed the external wound, but I had hit my head pretty hard, plus I had cried myself to sleep. I really should have taken Harry up in his offer of a pain potion.

Everything came back to me in one overwhelmingly rush. I had been attacked last night. It hadn’t been a dream. Images of Cormac’s face leering down at me, his hands on my legs, the weight of him pressed against me, made my chest constrict with anxiety. I shook my head, trying to shake out the memory, reminding myself that I was safe.

I lay in bed for a few minutes wondering if I could just stay there for the entire day. Harry had woken me up from the couch in the common room just before midnight and I had stumbled my way up to my bed. I had been so exhausted that I had fallen asleep straight away; too tired to even change out of my clothes.

'Morning, Hermione,' Ginny said coming towards me, 'Merlin, you look awful,' she said in concern upon seeing my face.

I didn’t even have it in me to argue with her. I knew I looked awful. I could feel it. My head still throbbed and my eyes were still feeling puffy from a night of crying. My hair felt tangled at the back, matted with the dried in blood that I didn’t have the energy to wash out the night before.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, sitting down on the end of my bed, a concerned look on my face.

'I’m just not feeling well today. I’ve got a headache.’ I think I might just stay in bed. I’m not really up for classes today.’ It wasn’t technically a lie.

'Is this about Cormac?' Ginny asked, suspicion filling her brown eyes.

'What?' I asked sharply, wondering if Harry had told her what had happened. 'What do you mean?'

'Hermione,’ she sighed. ‘You can't keep avoiding him forever. If you don't want to go out with him then just tell the poor guy, but to be quite honest I really don't see what the problem is. He's a nice enough guy.’

I stared at Ginny, wondering what she would do if I told her the truth. I nearly smiled. Whatever Malfoy had done to Cormac would be nothing compared to what Ginny Weasley would do if she knew the truth. But she wasn’t going to know the truth because I wasn’t going to tell her. I couldn’t.

‘It's nothing to do with Cormac,' I lied. It had everything to do with Cormac, just not for the reasons she thought. 'I just don't feel very well.’

'Well tough, you have to come to class today. We're continuing human transfiguration today and you know you can't miss that. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.'

I groaned loudly. I had forgotten about that and Ginny was right. There was no way that I could miss it. Human transfiguration always came up in NEWT exams. I sighed knowing that I didn't have a choice. I would just have to put my brace face on today.

I didn’t meet Ginny in ten minutes. It was closer to twenty by the time I finally made my way to the common room. Once in the bathroom, ignored the reflection of the pale face with the puffy eyes staring back at me and headed for a shower, resolutely ignoring the red streaks running down the drain as I rinsed my hair. I scrubbed at my skin until it was red raw, removing every trace from where his hands had touched me. If only it was so easy to remove the memories from my brain.

When I emerged from the dorm room, I was relieved to see Harry was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, giving me a bright but still concerned smile as I walked up to meet him.

'Hey, how are you this morning?' he asked quietly, looking deep into my eyes as if trying to read the answer there.

'Oh you know, been better,' I said shrugging my shoulders. I didn’t have the energy to lie to him and besides what would be the point.

'Yeah, I figured as much,’ he nodded. ‘I also figured you could use some moral support for this morning.'

'Thanks, I guess I'm going to need it,' I said trying and failing to give him a small smile. I looked around before asking, 'Where's Ginny?'

'She said she would meet us in the great hall, she had a book to get out of the library or something.'

'Good because I wanted to talk to you alone. Harry, I want to thank you for last night. You know how much it meant to me, but I really need you not to tell anyone about.'

'What do you mean? Hermione, you have to tell someone about he did to you. You can't let him get away with it,' Harry said, his voicing rising with incredulity as he realised what I was saying.

I moved towards Harry, taking hold of his hand in a desperate attempt to try and calm him down. He was looking really angry and his loud voice was starting to attract more than a few unwelcome stares.

'Harry, please, this is my decision and I just… I can’t deal with this just now.’

I could see that Harry wasn’t convinced. That he was looking at me like I had gone insane. He opened his mouth to argue with me, but I held out a staying hand.

'Please, Harry,' I said, forcing my voice to sound strong. ‘This is my decision. This is hard enough as it is but I am dealing with it. Please just trust me.’

‘Hermione,’ Harry sighed, hand going to his hair in frustration.

‘Besides, Cormac got what he deserved last night, thanks to Draco. Believe me, he won’t try anything like that again.’

At that Harry gave me a look that clearly said he disagreed with me.

'And I really don't need you to make this worse,' I added, knowing I was close to persuading him. 'I'm dealing with it.'

Harry gave a loud sigh and gritted his teeth as he answered, 'Fine. But I'm not happy about it. I really think you should tell someone. He can’t get away with this.’

'I know, but I just need you to do what I ask. Please, promise me,' I said stopping him and forcing him to look me in the eye.

Harry stared straight back at me, but I held firm until he finally sighed and conceded, albeit reluctantly. 'I promise you Hermione, I will not tell anyone…'

'Not even Ginny,' I interrupted him.

'I will not tell anyone, not even Ginny, but Hermione, you need to promise me that if he so much as looks at you in the wrong way then you will tell someone about what happened.'

I nodded my agreement, not wanting to make Harry a promise that I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep.

We walked down to the great hall together, Harry staying right by my side the whole way, acting like a makeshift bodyguard. It was really quite sweet how protective he was. He was the big brother that I never had, despite the fact that I was actually older. As we walked into the great hall, I could feel that familiar feeling of dread building up deep within my chest. My whole body stiffened as I spotted Cormac straight away at the Gryffindor table. He wasn't hard to miss. He was still covered in cuts and bruises from Malfoy's punches. He looked bad. ‘Good’ I thought bitterly, he deserved it. I want surprised to note that he clearly hadn't been to the hospital wing to deal with Madame Pomfrey’s questions as his eye was still swollen and purple.

Harry must have sensed the change in my demeanour as he took a step closer to me and put his hand protectively around my shoulder, steering me towards a seat as far away from Cormac as possible. Harry sat beside me, his whole body tense. I watched as he kept on shooting murderous glances in Cormac's direction. It was quite unnerving to see him so angry. Harry was usually very calm and composed and he was not one to get irrationally angry.

'I should go over there and curse that guys bits off,’ he hissed as his fist clenched so tightly around his fork I was worried that it might bend in two.

'Harry,' I said in a warning voice, 'you promised me, remember.'

He finally tore his gaze away from Cormac and looked at me, the anger in his eyes slowly ebbing away, until he gave a defeated look and let out a long sigh. 'Fine.'

When Ginny finally joined us ten minutes later, the atmosphere was still tense. I was trying desperately not to look to my left and avoid even thinking about the wizard sitting there. Something that would have been much easier if Harry hadn’t been shooting near constant murderous glances in that same direction. I tried to distract him by filling the silence with small talk. Not that it was working as Harry’s fists curled around his cutlery until his knuckles turned white. Ginny of course noticed that something was wrong as her eyebrows shot together as she stared at her boyfriend, shooting me questioning looks that I tried to ignore, finding the food on my plate completely fascinating as I pushed it around.

When we finally stood up to go to class, Ginny finally asked the question that she had been so evidently desperate to ask for the last twenty minutes.

'Do one of you want to tell me what's going on?' Ginny said giving a questioning look to both me and Harry.

I could feel the guilty look that was on my face and my whole body tensed. If Ginny knew something was wrong, there was no way she would let it go. I knew Ginny. She was like a dog with a bone. Once she got her teeth into something, she would not drop it until she had worked it out. I shot Harry a nervous glance. Would he tell her?

'Nothing's the matter, Ginny. Just a bit of a disagreement, that's all,' Harry said. He was us using my strategy. Technically he wasn’t lying.

'About?' Ginny asked questioningly, clearly not happy with that response.

'Nothing important. Look we really need to go or we'll be late.'

'Right,' Ginny said slowly, following Harry, her face full with questions and doubt.

I let out a relieved sigh and followed them. Harry had kept his promise. For now. I could only hope that Ginny would forget about it the whole thing and not question me or Harry again. Harry may have promised me, but if Ginny was suspicious, then it was only a matter of time before she brought up the subject again and there was only so long that I could lie to her for.

The rest of the day passed quickly and I welcomed the distraction that the classes brought.

I had been so preoccupied with thoughts of Cormac that I hadn’t even had time to give much thought to my rescuer. Of what it would be like to face him again. However as soon as I walked into the Potions class at the end of day and saw the blonde head bent over the desk at the front of the classroom, my heart faltered and I stumbled forward, cursing my bodies clumsiness.

Trying to act as naturally as possible, I slid into the seat beside him yet the more naturally I tried to act, the more aware I became of every move that I was making. I put my hair behind my ear at least five times before realising that it showed off more of my face, so I quickly flicked it back round so that my face was hidden. I shifted between having my legs crossed and uncrossed, my hand on the table or on my lap, my hand up at my face or holding my quill. I had never felt so uncomfortable or self-aware in all my life.

All the time however, I was desperately trying not to look at Malfoy, which was actually just about the only thing that I was managing to achieve so far. It had been working whilst we were listening to Professor Haven and I was able to focus my attention on her, but when she stopped talking and announced that we were now ready to start making our 'Draught of Peace' potions, I had nowhere else to hide. I would have to look and talk to him, sooner or later, but right now, I was opting for later. I only had the next hour to get through without speaking to him. It shouldn't be too hard right.

Once Professor Haven had finished talking, I jumped down from my seat and without a word, went to the store cupboard to get the ingredients where I met Harry.

'So what's going on with Malfoy?'

'What do you mean?' I said a little too quickly, wincing at how high my voice had gone. If he hadn't suspected something before, then he soon would.

'I mean after last night.' My eyes widened and I nearly choked. 'I mean he stopped McLaggen, right.' I sighed in relief as I realised what Harry was asking. 'Is he going to say anything to anyone? He hasn't given you a hard time about it, has he?'

'No, he hasn't said anything at all actually,' I said, coming to the realisation that he had been oddly quiet. 'I doubt he will anyway. Why would he? He'd only get himself into more trouble.' I looked along the shelves and took some belladonna from the jar before passing it to Harry.

'I guess not,' he agreed, 'He must have done a pretty big number on McLaggen though, judging by the state of his hand.'

'What do you mean?' I questioned, frowning as I passed Harry another jar. 'What's wrong with his hand?'

'Dunno, but it's all bandaged up. He must have hit McLaggen pretty hard. Never thought I'd be jealous of Malfoy. Wish you'd let me do that. The guy deserves it.'

'That may be,' I said rolling my eyes, 'but like you said, Malfoy did more than enough.'

When I got back to the table, I laid out the ingredients and finally let myself look to my right, noticing that Malfoy's right hand was, like Harry said, bandaged up. For a moment I was confused. How had he hurt his hand? I had healed all his wounds before I left. Then the realisation hit me. After we had nearly…, well after what had happened, he had punched the wall.

My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I came to a horrible realisation. A realisation of why he would have punched the wall. The realisation that he must have been so angry, disgusted and repulsed with himself for getting himself into that situation. For getting that close to me. For nearly kissing me. Me. A filthy mud blood.

I wasn't sure why that the realisation stung and I felt the wave of disappointment hit me full force in the gut. Disappointment quickly gave way to annoyance. Annoyed at myself for feeling that way, and annoyed at him for making me feel that way.

I worked in an angry silence, lost in my own bitter thoughts until I heard a soft clatter beside me. I turned around to see Malfoy's knife lying on the floor. I saw the look of annoyance that flashed through his eyes, which turned quickly to anger when he saw that I had noticed. I looked over at what he had been attempting to cut and saw that he was failing miserably.

Going against my better judgement, I moved beside him and picked up his knife from the floor.

'Here let me do it,' I said making a move to start cutting up his mandrake roots.

'I can do it,' he snapped, trying to grab the knife back with his bandaged hand.

'Evidently, you can't.' I pointed to the mangled mess that he had made of the mandrake roots. 'I'm just trying to help you,' I hissed.

'I don't need your help,’ he snapped back.

'Why?’Because the oh so wonderful Draco Malfoy, couldn't possibly need help from a mudblood like me? Well screw you, Malfoy. If you want to make a mess of this potion, then go ahead. Be my guest.

It was then I realised just how close I had gotten to him in my angry rant. I looked up to find him looming over me as we stood nearly nose to nose. Had he always been so tall? The anger that I was sure was in my eyes instantly vanished the second that they met his shining grey ones. Standing this close and before I could stop myself I once again found myself searching again for the shades of blue and green that I had seen the day before.

I realised quickly that I was staring and swiftly broke the eye contact, feeling the familiar flush creep its way onto my cheeks. I started to back away and walked straight into the stool behind me, hissing in pain as I hit my ankle off of the metal bar at the bottom it.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Malfoy was once again watching me, clearly amused at my clumsiness. His expression was doing absolutely nothing to improve my mood.

'What?' I snapped, trying to cover up my embarrassment.

'Nothing,' he said simply, folding his arms and sitting down, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. 'Go ahead.'

'What?' I asked confused.

'The potion,' he said slowly, pointing towards the knife still gripped in my hand.

I blushed again. I had forgotten I was meant to be doing that. I flicked my hair over my shoulder in an attempt to look nonchalant. 'Oh, right, sure,' I said turning my back on him and continuing where he had left off. I could feel his eyes on me as I worked and once again, when I was trying to be as natural as possible, I felt I was being anything but. I was so determined that I would do it perfectly and felt so on edge with his criticising eyes that I was gripping that knife so tightly that my knuckles were turning white.

'There, done,' I announced when I was finished, silently breathing a sigh of relief. I turned to add the ingredients to the potion.

'Thank you,' came a quiet voice from beside me.

My eyes flashed up to meet his face, convinced that I must have mis-heard him. Malfoy could not just have said thank you. In the whole seven years that I had known him, I had never heard him utter those words.

'Pardon?' I said in confusion. My brain refused to believe that he had just said those words. He was going to have to say them again if I was going to believe that he had just said that.

'You heard,' Malfoy said, rolling his eyes, running his hand through his blonde hair. I would swear that he looked a little uncomfortable. I would bet that he could count on one hand the number of times that he had ever thanked someone.

'Well, you’re welcome.’ I smiled back at him genuinely. A smile that only intensified when he looked away and a pink tinge appeared high on his cheeks.

We worked in a comfortable silence until the end of the lesson when Professor Haven tested the potions, before reluctantly admitting that mine and Malfoy's potion was the top of the class and awarded us five house points each. With his injured hand hindering him, we were the last to tidy up our bench and leave the classroom. He left the classroom just ahead of me as I returned our cauldron. Gathering my belongings I exited the classroom, finding Malfoy standing with Pansy Parkinson, her leaning in close to him, saying something in his ear. Just as I was debating whether or not to retreat or hastily rush past them, he stiffened at her words, his back going ram-rod straight. He leaned down towards her, his face hard and I was fairly certain I heard his low voice telling her to piss off, but I couldn’t be sure as she then threw a smirk over his shoulder, looking straight at me, before waltzing off down the corridor.

Wondering what on earth I had just witnessed, I realised that Malfoy and I were alone. Sucking up my courage, I realised that now was as good a time as any to have the conversation that I knew would have to happen sooner or later.

'Dra...Malfoy, can I have a word?'

He turned around towards me, his face completely blank of all emotion. 'What?'

Slightly perturbed by his bluntness, by the change in his demeanour from just moments before, I blinked twice at him, before continuing. 'Well,’ I began, taking a deep steadying breath, ‘I just wanted to say thank you, again, for what you did last night. I wanted to say thank you for helping me.'

'I didn't do it for you,' he scoffed, with an anger in his eyes that I didn't understand.

'Well,’ I swallowed hard refusing to be deterred, ‘whatever your motivation was, I'm still grateful.’

'Great’ he said blandly. ‘You done?'

I didn’t know why I was so determined to overlook his blatant rudeness, but I carried on regardless. ‘Look, I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye, and even though you didn't have to help me, you did, so I wanted you to know that I’m grateful and if you ever needed anything then-‘

‘What the hell could I need from you? He interrupted.

I stepped back at the harshness in his voice. ‘Nothing. I just... I don’t know.’

He stared at me, his face impassive, although something was working behind his eyes. 'So what now?' he shrugged. 'Do you expect me to fall at your feet, because the great Hermione Granger deigns to give me her thanks.’

‘No, I just thought-‘

‘Thought what? That everything would be fine? That we would be friends?’ He spat the word as if it offended him.

‘Of course not. It’s just-‘

‘Just that you like playing games with guys? Teasing them. Getting them to crawl around after you. And all to make Weasley jealous. It’s pathetic!’

‘Excuse me?!’ I recoiled from him, stung at his words.

‘Let’s get something straight, Granger.’ He leaned in towards me, his face level with mine, full of an anger that I didn’t understand. ‘I despise you and you despise me and you are not drawing me into this bullshit. You want to make Weasley jealous, go ahead. Just don’t complain when things get out of your control.’

‘You think I’m playing games?’ I asked stunned, trying not to let him see that his words were hurting. ‘You think I wanted that to happen to me?’

He shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘I really don’t care what happens to you, Granger.’

His words hurt, especially since I had spent the whole day wondering about him. Of course I wasn’t about to let him know how much his words stung. 'Has anyone ever told you, you are the most despicable, horrible, obnoxious, judgemental fuckwit that ever existed?' My chest rose and fell with my rage.

Malfoy's expression darkened, contrasting with the twisted smirk that appeared on his lips. 'A fuckwit? Surely you can do better than that, Granger?'

I closed my eyes, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I had never been an overly violent person. As recent events had shown, I clearly had a temper, but on the whole I was not quick to violence. Despite all that, I had never wanted to hit someone as much as I wanted to hit Draco Malfoy in that moment.

'I can't believe I actually tried to say thank you to you. To treat you like a normal human being. ‘ I looked him up and down giving him a look that could leave him in no doubt of my feelings. ‘What the hell was I thinking?'

I turned away, wanting to escape from that corridor and forget that Draco Malfoy ever existed, but he couldn't even give me that.

His grip pinched my upper arm as he tugged me back to face him, and the blood drained from my face as the forceful aggression triggered memories. Cormac's face suddenly flashed before me. His breath on my face. His hands all over me.

'Let me go,' I whispered in panic, tugging away. 'Please let me go.'

Malfoy's hand immediately fell from me and he held them in front of him in the gesture of surrender. I shook my head to rid myself of the flashbacks and forced my eyes to refocus on him. I could see that Malfoy had paled too. The anger was gone from his eyes and if I hadn’t known better I would have sworn it had been replaced with concern.

'Granger, I'm not going to hurt you.'

I made a scoffing sound because it was too late. He already had. 'Stay away from me, Malfoy,' I managed shakily. 'You, Cormac, Ron- you're all the bloody same.' This time when I turned to leave, he let me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t already then please add kudos or bookmark. It’s just one tiny click. Also only one person was kind enough to comment on the last chapter. It really means a lot to know peoples thoughts.


	11. Chapter 11 - Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was still having nightmares about the battle, only now they were interspersed with a new nightmare.'

Chapter 11- Nightmares

_The battle raged all around me. I fired another stunning spell over my shoulder as I ducked and dodged, trying to avoid the passing bodies and the falling debris. Another hex skimmed past my face, making me flinch as the bright colours flashed across my vision. I turned around, looking for Harry and Ron. Where were they? They had just been beside me. I stumbled around, looking for them. Tripping, falling. All around me, were the sounds of screams. A flash of green and a body fell to the floor, unmoving. Where was Harry? Where was Ron? Another scream. More green light. Another unmoving figure falling to the ground. We were losing. I had to keep fighting. I had to find Harry. I had to find Ron._

_I saw a flash of red hair ahead of me and I started towards it, trying to follow, when suddenly I was caught around the waist and pinned against the wall, my hands held above my head. I pushed against the hard wall of chest pressing into me, trying to get it to to move. I needed to find Ron. The hands on my body seemed to multiply, holding my wrists, skimming over my legs, squeezing my waist, holding my chin firmly in place. I started to fight, to thrash, to hit, to scratch, but the figure holding me, was too strong, immovable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure, a death eater approaching, their silver mask glinting from under the hood of their robes. My panic increased. This was it. I was going to die. I screamed out again, begging for help._

_Suddenly the death eater, started laughing, a cold high laugh, that made my blood turn cold and my body still. I knew that laugh. The figure walked forward and suddenly they were right in front of me, it was their hands that held onto my wrists, them pinning me to the wall. Grey eyes peered down at me from behind the mask, glinting with pleasure. They bent forward, moving their head beside mine until their voice whispered in my ear._

_‘Why would I help you, Granger? I despise you.’_

_A wand bit into my neck and the figure pulled away, laughing. The wand raised, their lips parted and with a flash of light, I started to scream._

‘No!’ I cried out, my head jerking up from my pillow. Panting, my eyes adjusted to the dark. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

I sat up and buried my head in my hands. Pushing my sweat soaked hair back from my face, I looked around the room. Everyone was still asleep. All due to the silencing charm I had been placing around my bed for the last week and a half. Most nights were the same. I was still having nightmares about the battle, only now they were interspersed with a new nightmare. I slipped out of bed and headed to the common room, knowing that I wouldn’t get back to sleep.

Harry was worried about me. I could see it on his face every time he looked at me. I would have liked to have said that his worry was unjustified, but I wasn’t sure that it was. I knew that I was looking pale, the bags under my eyes were larger than my school trunk. I was tired and I was irritable. When Ron had asked for my help with his homework, I had yelled at him and told him to get his girlfriend to help him instead. Then there was Cormac. Seeing him around the school was like picking at an open wound. Every time I saw him, I felt my breath quicken and the ice flood through my veins. Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t move, frozen solid and other times, I found myself running in the other direction fighting to catch my breath.

Ginny knew that something was wrong. Ron didn’t. He was too preoccupied with Lavender. When I saw her sit on his lap or wrap her arms around his neck or kiss him, I couldn’t find it in me to care anymore. Harry tried to be supportive. He tried to be with me whenever he could, but I knew it was affecting his relationship with Ginny. She knew that he was keeping something from him, and I heard them bickering about it more than once. Not to mention I had become the literal definition of a third wheel. Ginny clearly wanted to spend alone time with Harry, but he always found a way to include me, much to her frustration.

Things were still tense between them by the time the quidditch season started and I was feeling guilty. I knew that I would need to tell Ginny the truth soon. I owed them both that much. The first match was between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Matches were held on a Saturday, so of course that meant that I couldn’t go.

I waited in the common room for my friends to appear, all wearing their bright red quidditch robes. I cheered along with everyone else when the rest of the team appeared in the common room all the while trying to ignore the feeling that had reappeared in my stomach. A feeling that I knew I had no right to be feeling. It was my own fault that I would be missing the game due to my detention, yet I couldn’t shake off the jealous feeling that I was once again missing out.

At breakfast Harry and Ginny were perfectly calm as usual, if a little quieter than usual, but Ron had retreated into his past habits of going deathly quiet and eating nothing, which was always a sign with Ron that he wasn't feeling himself. Ron always got a bad case of nerves before playing quidditch and I guessed that not playing in over a year hadn't really done much to improve his confidence.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with Ron sitting in stony silence, looking as though he was trying not to vomit and Harry and Ginny sitting with concentrated looks on their faces, I imagined trying to run through their strategy one more time. The only time any of us spoke was when people came over to wish the other three luck in the game, at which point Harry and Ginny would give a quick thanks and Ron would turn even more of a strange green colour.

When Harry finally stood up, that was the signal that it was time to go. I watched enviously as everyone else followed the team to the door, trying to get to the quidditch stands as early as possible in order to get the best seats. I couldn't help but feel jealous as I watched their excitement as they filed out of the hall. I turned to Harry to try and offer my good luck wishes, but he was immediately swarmed by a crowd of fans.

'Good luck, Harry,' I called over the crowds, trying to make my voice heard.

'Thanks, Hermione. See you later,' he shouted in reply before he was swept up in the crowds. The others didn't even turn around to say bye to me, just following Harry out of the hall. I stood there until the great hall was completely empty, waiting for a long moment in the silence before I gathered together my belongings and made my way up to the library for yet another detention.

As I walked through the empty corridors, I was struck by how quiet it was. Apart from my feet, the only other noises were the occasional shouts and cheers coming from the crowds making their way to the quidditch stands. I wasn't a particularly huge quidditch fan but being alone inside a deserted castle when everyone else was out having fun did nothing to improve my mood.

I entered the deserted library to find that Malfoy wasn't there yet. Things had been strained between us ever since that day in the corridor. Every day we sat beside each other in potions, saying absolutely nothing and acting like the other one didn’t even exist. Our last two detentions had been exactly the same. It suited me just fine. I had nothing to say to him anyway and I was sure that after our last conversation, he would have nothing to say to me either.

He was ten minutes late when he finally sauntered in and I had been steadily nursing my anger for each of those ten minutes.

'Nice of you to show up,' I muttered sarcastically, my feelings perfectly clear.

He didn't even bother to respond, although I knew that he'd heard me from the dark look that he shot in my direction. I smirked with a feeling of satisfaction. Glad that I’d managed to provoke a reaction after over a week of blank nothingness.

From that moment I found that I couldn’t help myself. I snapped in reply to any question he asked. I criticised him if he made even the slightest mistake. I sighed loudly when he took too long to do something. And he took it all without a word. The longer he stayed silent the more I was determined to get a rise out of him. I wanted him to argue back. I wanted him to fight with me. I wanted to vent out all the frustration and anger that I had been feeling on someone without feeling guilty about it afterwards and Malfoy was the perfect person for doing that with. Yet he wasn't taking the bait.

When a loud cheer from the quidditch stands broke the silence, I watched as Malfoy's eyes lifted up the window nearby and he let out a frustrated sigh.

'Problem?' I asked. Although I knew exactly why he was annoyed. He loved quidditch and yet he had to spend the match stuck in the library with me. Out of the two of us, he had more reason to be annoyed than I did.

'Yes, actually,' he replied finally turning around to face me. I congratulated myself that his blank mask had been replaced with a dark glower. 'It’s the first quidditch match of the season and instead of being out there eyeing up the competition, I'm stuck in here with you when you're being even more of a complete bitch than usual.'

'I beg your pardon!’ I exclaimed, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I fired up for the argument. 'How do you expect me to be? It's hardly my ideal situation either being stuck here all day with you. And I am not a bitch,' I added for good measure.

He simply shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll just add it to a list of all your attributes. It’s a short list,’ he sneered. ‘Bitch. And a coward.’

I felt my eyebrows rise at the accusation. ‘In what way am I coward?’

‘Seriously?’ he scoffed. ‘You’re just going to let McLaggen get away with what he did? For nearly raping you, all because you’re too what? Afraid? Scared it will tarnish that fucking golden halo everyone thinks you have.’

I flinched at his words but forced myself to push it away quickly. ‘Why the hell do you care?’ I folded my arms across my chest in an effort to provide some level of protection. ‘I mean, I brought it all on myself after all? I deserved what happened to me, right?’

He visibly winced at my words, as if he was ashamed of them, but I was too angry to care.

‘I don’t care,’ he said simply, recovering his emotionless mask. ‘I just think it’s ironic that the girl who fights for justice for everyone else, won’t lift a finger to do it for herself. How will you feel if he does it to someone else and you could have stopped it but didn’t? Can you take that on your conscience?

I stepped back away from him, stung at his words. I hadn’t even given it a thought that it could happen to someone else. I hadn’t even considered it. To my shame I had only been thinking about myself. I had been selfish. Not that I wanted him to know that he was right. So instead of admitting it, I turned defensive. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, I think I do. Because maybe the reason you’re not telling anyone what happened, is because you’re worried of what you’re precious Weasley will think of your tarnished reputation. You’ve been panting after him for his years. Maybe if he finds out, he won’t want you anymore, is that what you’re worried about? How does it feel to be second best to Lavender Brown of all people? How does it feel to know that Weasley doesn’t want you?’ He ran his eyes over me and scoffed. ‘I don’t know how anyone ever could.’

It’s one of those things, when in the middle of an argument someone says those words, that one thing that will cut you more deeply than any knife ever could. That’s what happened to me. My face crumpled instantly as I reared back from him, because he had said that one thing, that one thing that would hurt me the most. The thought that had been plaguing me for months and of course, Draco Malfoy would be the one to discover that weakness before anyone else did. He had found it and he had weaponised it. Because Ron didn’t want me. Neither did my parents. He was right. I had no one.

Before the first of my tears could fall, before I would ever let him see them, I pushed past him and grabbed my bag.

As I marched out to the end of the aisle I heard him say my name. I stopped and turned around. He stood watching looking me, his jaw tense as something worked behind his eyes as he saw the tears glistening in mine.

‘Screw you, Malfoy.’

Not quite satisfied with that, I pulled out my wand and flicked it in his direction, watching as every book in the aisle flew out from its place in the shelf. As I turned around I heard his pained grunts as books and parchment rained down on top of him.

I stormed through the castle, angry with him and angry with myself for lashing out at him again. But most of all I was angry with myself for letting him see the hurt in my eyes. For letting him see how much he had hurt me.

I couldn’t go back to the common room. Not yet. I didn’t know where the match would finish and I wouldn’t have an explanation for why I was back so early. So instead I wandered the empty corridors of the castle, finally settling on a place I hadn’t been in years. There was an alcove at the end of a corridor that no one tended to go down. I used to find myself sitting in that alcove on a regular basis, mostly when Ron and Harry would stop speaking to me for one reason or another and then again throughout sixth year when Ron had first started going to go out with Lavender. Most of the time I would sit and read, or like today. just think and stare out of the window, totally undisturbed.

I sat there for a while, only deciding to head back to the common room when I saw the crowds start to head back up to the castle.

When I reached the safety of the common room, the door swung open to reveal a party, already in full swing. People are laughing and cheering, posters abs banners has already been placed all around the room and there there was even gold and red confetti sprinkling from the ceiling.

I looked around for Harry and the others, which didn't take me too long, as they were the ones who were surrounded by the largest crowd. I pushed my way through, getting out my pointy elbows to nudge a few people out of the way.

'Hermione,' Harry called over a few heads, when he eventually saw me, making his way through the last few people.

'Hey, I guess I should be congratulating you.’ I pointed to the banners and the confetti. ‘I take it that you won,' I said moving in for a hug, although regretting it immediately when I saw that he hadn't changed out of his Quidditch robes and they were filthy.

'Yep, we did. It was a good game,' Harry replied, whilst I gave a quick congratulations to Ron and Ginny.

'What was the score?' I asked, trying to at least pretend that I was knowledgeable about the game, although as soon as the question was out of my lips, I couldn't help but feel that I had asked precisely the wrong question. Harry and Ginny immediately shot Ron a quick look, before looking at each other, with concerned expressions.

'Oh, I'm not sure what it finally ended as' Harry replied awkwardly, once again shooting Ron a quick look.

I was feeling completely bewildered by the weird expressions, the little glances and the sudden tension, but before I could comment further, Ron stormed away stating that he needed a drink.

'What's going on?' I asked totally confused.

'The score was actually 190- 130. Harry was just trying to spare Ron's feelings,' Ginny explained, although I was still didn't understand her meaning.

'Well that's not too bad, is it? I mean you still won, although… oh.' I said, the penny finally dropping. Although Gryffindor had won, they had only managed to score four goals, whereas Ravenclaw had scored thirteen. That meant that if Harry hadn't caught the snitch, we would have probably lost. That meant that Ron, had let in thirteen goals. No wonder he didn't look happy. In fact now that I looked more closely, that was a bit of an understatement. He had a face like thunder. He was standing slightly apart from everyone else and was glaring at them with hard eyes, as if he hated them for daring to have such a good time.

'Ron let in thirteen goals,' I said as Harry and Ginny both winced. 'What happened? I thought he'd been fine in training.'

'I dunno, he just seemed to crumble completely,' Harry shrugged. 'He lost it. If it hadn't been for Ginny, we would have been in real trouble,' he said, looking down at her with pride. 'She was amazing.'

Ginny turned to face him and immediately leaned in to kiss him. Although the quick kiss soon turned heated and I felt decidedly more awkward standing in front of them.

'So, I'm em, just going to…' I trailed off awkwardly, as it became increasingly apparent that neither of them were even aware of my existence anymore, never mind listening to me. I wandered away from the kissing couple, looking around the common room, my eyes falling on Ron once again. He was standing over at the other side of the common room talking with Lavender, although neither of them looked happy. I couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud music, but if the angry faces and the arm waving was anything to go by, they were in the middle of a heated argument. Ron eventually turned and walked out of the common room, grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey off the table on his way. Lavender watched him leave with a dark look on her face, before she turned and stormed off in the opposite direction.

I watched Ron disappear with a heavy feeling in my stomach. Even though we had grown apart in the last few months, he was still my friend, one of my best friends and he looked so miserable that I couldn’t help but follow him out of the common room. I exited the portrait hole, to find the corridor empty. I had no idea which way he had gone and so took a chance, choosing to go left. It wasn't long before I knew that my gamble had paid off.

I walked up behind Ron, who was sitting at the top of a deserted staircase, a bottle of firewhiskey still in his hand. I sat down beside him, giving a casual 'hey' as I did, but he barely even acknowledged my presence. The only indication that he had heard me was the clenching of his jaw and a very slight, nearly imperceptible nod of the head. I knew immediately that this would probably not go well, but it was too late to back out now. Ron had always had a temper and it was always ignited further when he had been humiliated. If there was anything Ron hated more than anything in the world it was people laughing at him.

'So…' I began, unsure of what to say next. 'How are things?' I ended lamely.

Ron was silent for a moment, before he lifted the bottle in his hand to his lips and downed over half the contents of the bottle in one large swig. He sighed dramatically as he swallowed and I immediately regretted my decision to follow him. He was on a one way track to getting pissed and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be around when that happened.

'Well, Hermione, let me see. I have just made a complete and utter arse of myself in front of the entire school, had a huge fight with Lavender, my sister is all loved up with my best friend, my brother’s dead and I am pretty much failing every class that I have this year, so I would say that things are just peachy,' he said sarcastically, sulking even more.

'Oh come on Ron, things can't be that bad,' I said taking his hand, trying to comfort in the only small way that I could. 'You want to talk about it? I mean school can't be that bad,' I said, choosing the easiest topic, not really wanting to delve into the other issues.

'Don't want to talk about it,' he muttered and we both fell into silence again. I sighed and closed my eyes tightly, before I forced myself to ask-

'Well, what about you and Lavender? What happened?' I asked really not wanting to know the answer, but trying to be a good friend.

It only took a few moments of silence for Ron to start speaking. 'Apparently I embarrassed her today with my, now what did she say 'idiotic and brainless Quidditch playing'. Apparently, a blind pixie with one arm would have been better than me today. See, I'm good enough for her when I'm Harry's friend and part of the bloody 'golden trio' but when I screw up a Quidditch match, she doesn't want to know,' Ron said, trying to keep his tone light, but failing towards the end when the hurt crept into his voice.

I held back the sigh that was straining to get free, wondering what he wanted me to say. That Lavender was shallow and always had been and he was a complete idiot for going out with her again when he knew what she was like? Or basically lie to him and tell him how wonderful she was? Not wanting to make Ron feel worse, I knew that I only had one option.

'I'm sure she didn't mean it, Ron,' I said unable to quite believe the words that were coming out of my mouth.

'Yes, she did, Hermione. I could tell she meant every word,' Ron replied in a hurt tone. He raised the bottle of firewhiskey and took another gulp before he passed me the bottle. Warily I took it, but just held it in my hands. I wasn't quite over the memory of my hangover to jumk back into drinking just yet. 'What do I do, Hermione? Tell me what to do?'

'I can't tell you what to do, Ron? Just do what makes you happy? If Lavender is what makes you happy then you need to-'

I was abruptly cut off by Ron's lips descending onto mine. I froze in shock as the smell and taste of firewhiskey assaulted my senses and I was immediate reminded of Cormac.

Putting my hands on his shoulders I pushed him firmly away. 'Ron, no! What are you doing? You have a girlfriend!’

He sighed heavily, picking up the firewhiskey and taking a long swig. 'Ignore me, Hermione. I'm drunk.'

I stiffened as he pulled me into tight hug of apology completely unaware that he had just effectively delivered a punch to my emotions. Another one. Another emotional scar for Ron to leave on me. He pulled the bottle to his lips over my shoulder, completely unaware of the hurt that I was feeling. I was just about to pull away from him and leave before he could say something else to hurt me, when a movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention to the bottom of the staircase. I started slightly when I realised that at the bottom of the staircase, staring at us with a look of surprise and shock was Draco Malfoy. His gaze drifted briefly from me to Ron and then back to me. Something about his gaze made me shift uncomfortably. It looked as if he was angry, almost hurt, but then I was sure that I must have imagined it, for his face quickly returned to his usual blank, stony expression and he walked quickly on.

I pulled out of Ron's arms, as I watched him go, my eyes still lingering on the place where he just disappeared out of sight, trying not to think about what his piercing look had meant.

'Nice to see some things never change,' Ron said beside me, pulling my gaze back to him.

'Meaning what?'

'Malfoy.'

'What about him?' I asked, unable to stop myself.

'Well apart from being a git, he's still strutting about the castle like he owns it, looking down at everyone else like they're beneath him. I mean did you see the look he gave us; like we we're total scum. Maybe someone should tell him that his side actually lost in the war. Fucking arsehole!' Ron practically yelled, before downing the rest of the firewhiskey and throwing the glass bottle down the stairs where it smashed, sending shards of glass scattering in all directions.

I couldn't help but look back for one last glance at where Draco was standing, wondering why that look he had given us bothered us so much. But then again, he thought that nobody would ever want me, that nobody ever could. Maybe he was just disgusted that any boy would ever sit close to me.

'Right, let's get back to this party then,' Ron said swaying slightly and reaching his hand out to me to help me up, which was a bit ironic considering he was the one who was struggling to stand upright. I reluctantly let him pull me to my feet, hoping that he didn't topple and take me with him.

'Apparently we've got some celebrating to do,' Ron said, throwing his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side and leading me back towards the common room with a new found enthusiasm. I couldn't help but laugh as he started dancing his way back into the common room, twirling me under his arm as we re-joined the party. I caught Harry's eye as we entered back through the portrait hole and he gave me a thumbs up, mouthing 'thank you'. I gave him a quick nod back and as I made my through the crowds, pushing Ron’s kiss and Malfoy’s words out of my head and putting a smile on my face ready to enjoy the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I’m really sorry for missing my Tuesday update but this week has been tough. In Scotland the country is back in lockdown which means working from home. On Tuesday I was also babysitting my 1 year old niece, home schooling my 5 year old nephew and trying to do my own job so updating just didn’t happen. I’ve found working from home and being on a computer all day really tough and I’ve ended up with a really sore hand and arm from typing all day. Needless to say at night, writing is the very last thing I want to do.  
> I’ve got quite a few of the next few chapters written so I’ll stick to just updating once a week on a Saturday to make I don’t run out chapters and end up stressing about having to write or having big gaps between updates. Unfortunately the situation doesn’t look like it will be getting better any time soon but hopefully I can try and find some motivation to write again.  
> Also a massive thank you to all the lovely people who left me so many wonderful reviews for the last chapter. It really means a lot to me.  
> So please if you haven’t already done so, leave kudos, bookmark or comment.


	12. Chapter 12 - Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Because whenever I look at you, I see the same thing haunting you that's haunting me. And I can't help but think that out of everyone, you might understand.'

Chapter 12- Haunted

I couldn’t sleep. Again! But this time it wasn’t from nightmares. This times it was because of Draco Malfoy. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get his words out of my head. It wasn’t the end of our conversation; I could have dealt with that part. Unfortunately, it was what he had said before that. About me. About me being a coward. About me not telling anyone about what Cormac had done. About what would happen if it happened again, to someone else, all because I hadn’t spoken up. All because I was too scared to admit what had happened.

I tried to forget his words. I tried to focus on his cruel barbs, on his sneering face, but every time I did, I just kept coming back to one word. Coward. My stomach twisted at the thought. I didn’t want to be a coward.

Which was why I found myself up early the following morning having decided that the only way to get his voice out of my head, was to do something about it.

However reluctant I might have been to admit it, he was right. If the same thing happened again because I had stayed quiet, then I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. So, I did the only thing that I could do, the thing I should have done after it had happened. I went to see Professor McGonagall.

Everyone was still in bed after a late night of partying and the common room was quiet. No one would be awake for hours. I walked through the corridors quickly, determined to get it over with before I changed my mind. All too soon I reached the griffin statue which concealed the head teacher’s office. Giving the same password that I had used when I was sent here to receive my detention, I was half relieved, half disappointed, when the griffin slowly started to spin to reveal the staircase behind it. Reaching the top of the stairs and before I could back out, I knocked on the wooden door and entered the room.

‘Ah Miss Granger,’ Professor McGonagall said, sitting behind the large desk in the middle of the room, looking at a piece of parchment in front of her. ‘Good morning. I hadn’t expected to see anyone from Gryffindor for hours yet. It was nice to start the season off well. Not that I’m biased of course, but even though I’m headmistress,’ she dropped her voice almost conspiratorially, ‘Gryffindor will always be my house. Now what can I do for you?’ She gestured for me to take a seat.

My hands twisted into the folds of my robes and I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath to settle the sick fluttering of nerves in my stomach. ‘I wanted to report something. An... an attack.’

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but her voice remained steady. ‘An attack on whom?’

I swallowed deeply, forcing myself to say the words. ‘On me.’

‘Mr. Malfoy?’ she surmised immediately.

‘No,’ I replied quickly, feeling the sharp stab of indignation on his behalf. If anyone had done any attacking between the two of us, it had been me. Not just once, but twice. ‘No, not him. He actually helped me.’

The Professors eyes shot up at my words. ‘Helped you how?’

‘He...’ I paused, unsure of how to continue. I took another deep breath, filling my lungs with some much-needed oxygen, before forcing myself to admit the words. ‘He pulled him off me.’

Outwardly there was no change to her physical appearance. No obvious indication that she had heard my words. Yet behind her eyes I could see her mind working as she processed the impact of what I had said. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her clasped hands in front of her. ‘Miss Granger, just what sort of attack are we talking about?’

I tried to stop the trembling of my lip. I tried to stop the tears from filling my eyes. I tried to keep my voice steady as I uttered the words, but I couldn’t. ‘I was...’ I swallowed deeply, finding the courage to say the words. ‘I was assaulted.’

‘Miss Granger,’ Professor McGonagall said in a softer voice than I had ever heard her use before, ‘perhaps you had better start at the beginning.’

So, I told her it all. All about the party, avoiding Cormac, his visit to the library, and that night in the corridor. I told her of Malfoy’s intervention and Harry’s appearance. By the time I was finished, Professor McGonagall’s lips were so thin, they had virtually disappeared.

‘Not that I doubt your word, Granger, but do you have evidence? Would you be willing to have your memories examined?’

I nodded and placed my wand to my temple, before pulling out the wispy, shining tendrils of my memories and pleased them in the pensieve that Professor McGonagall had brought over from a cabinet to sit on the table.

‘Do you wish to accompany me?’ she asked, pointing to the pensieve that had started swirling with grey and silver mist with the addition of my memories.

I shook my head, not wanting to relive that moment again. It had been bad enough going through it the first time, I didn’t need to see it all play out again scene by scene. Professor McGonagall disappeared into the pensieve, returning a few minutes later.

I had seen Professor McGonagall angry on more than a few occasions. When she found us in a bathroom after fighting a troll; when she found us out of bed after we’d delivered Norbert, when she’d been arguing with Umbridge to name but a few. All of that was nothing compared to the look of pure fury I saw on her face now.

‘I will of course have to speak to Mr. Malfoy and Mr. McLaggen, and I suppose Potter too. However, I assure you, Hermione, that behaviour like this will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a safe place for all students. I’m sorry that this happened to you, but I assure you it will be dealt with so that nothing like this happens again. Is there anything else that I can do for you? Do you need someone to talk to? A counsellor perhaps?’

I shook my head. ‘Thank you, Professor, but I’ll be fine. I just want to make sure that he can’t do this to anyone again.’

‘I understand. If you change your mind, please don’t hesitate to ask. Now, if you are sure, then perhaps you could find Mr. Potter for me and ask him to come to see me. I’ll send a note to Mr. Malfoy for his statement too.’

‘I will.’ I stood up and turned to go, hesitating as I reached the door. ‘Professor, Malfoy won’t be in trouble, will he? For what he did to Cormac?’

Professor McGonagall looked at me, and I felt somewhat uncomfortable under her assessing gaze, before she answered. ‘No, Miss Granger. I don’t think that will be necessary.’

With a sense of relief, I left her office and made my way back to the Gryffindor common room to find Harry.

I was surprised to find that Harry and Ginny were awake and sitting in the empty common room when I returned. I didn’t imagine that I would see Ron for a few hours yet after the amount he’d had to drink the night before.

‘Where have you been this early?’ Ginny asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice, as I approached the two in front of the fire.

‘I just had something that I had to do,’ I answered evasively. Turning my gaze to Harry I asked, ‘Can I have a quick word?’

Harry looked at me in surprise whereas Ginny looked at first confused and then put out as we walked together to the common room entrance.

‘What’s up?’ Harry asked, looking at me with both bewilderment and a hint of concern in his gaze. Concern that was nearly my undoing. I forced myself to get it together, straightening my back and keeping my voice steady.

‘I’ve told McGonagall what happened. She wants to see you. To ask you about what you saw. She’s in her office waiting for you.’

‘You did?’ He asked in surprise, before he quirked his head to the side. ‘What made you change your mind?’

I hesitated for moment, debating what to say before I finally settled on the truth. There had been too many secrets between us already. ‘Malfoy actually.’

Harry eyebrows flew up in surprise, disappearing under his dark messy hair. ‘Malfoy?’

‘Yes,’ I answered shortly. Not wanting to share anymore details and before he could question me any further, I said, ‘Anyway you’d better go. She’s waiting for you.’

‘Alright,’ he said with a look that made me think he knew exactly what I was doing. He turned to leave, taking a few steps before he stopped and turned back to me, ‘And Hermione.’ He leaned in to kiss me lightly on the forehead. ‘I’m proud of you.’

I smiled at him as he walked through the portrait hole before I turned back to where Ginny was still sitting and I flopped down beside her on the couch, feeling that heavy weight resting on my shoulders begin to lighten, until I felt Ginny’s gaze burning into me.

‘What was all that about?’ Ginny asked, nodding to the portrait hole where Harry has just left. I looked at her face, at the doubt and suspicion there and I knew that I had to tell her.

I took a deep steadying breath. ‘Ginny, I have something to tell you. Something I should have told you a while ago.

And so, I told her everything. I told her about Cormac, about Malfoy and about Harry. By the end of it I was crying in Ginny’s arms. But after it was done, I felt lighter, like that weight had been lifted from my shoulders and that open wound I had been carrying around for weeks, felt like it was finally starting to heal.

Cormac was removed from school that same day. Professor McGonagall sent me a note saying that unfortunately his removal wasn’t permanent and a two months suspension was the best that she could do. I didn’t know what Cormac’s father did, but he talked about him often enough with a sense of self- entitlement that made me think he had a job high up in the ministry and he had probably had some influence over things.

Rumours flew around the school that he’d had a family emergency. That he was ill. That he had been expelled. That his father had pulled him out of school because of his dismal results. No one mentioned my name. No one mentioned the truth.

With Cormac gone, even temporarily, I felt like I could finally relax again. With the truth out in the open, Harry and Ginny were back to being a nauseatingly happy couple. Even Ron and Lavender seemed to be back in a good place. Harry had dialled down on the quidditch practices for a while. Their next game wasn’t until well into the new year, so they had months to get in plenty of training. For the next few weeks, things were feeling more like normal, even if being around two happy couples was continuing to make me very much aware that I was alone. But I forced myself to smile my way through it and pretend that it didn’t bother me.

Two weeks after the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw game, it was the turn of the other two teams. With Malfoy playing seeker for Slytherin, he was excused from our Saturday detention, having to do it on the Sunday instead. Which is why I once again found myself alone in an empty castle. Except this time, it truly was an empty castle.

The others had of course gone to the quidditch game, two couples, having fun, while I once again headed to the library. The hours passed slowly as I worked in the eerie solitude of the deserted library. By the end of it, I would have even welcomed Malfoy’s presence beside me, just to have someone else there.

When my time in the library was done, I didn’t want to go to the empty common room, so I did what I had done all summer. I went for a walk. In the distance I could hear the cheers and shouts from the quidditch pitch, but I tuned them out. I could go and join everyone, but I would have to squeeze in to find a seat and no doubt once I got there, the match would end anyway. I briefly thought of visiting Hagrid, but I was sure he would probably be at the game too. In the end I walked around the whomping willow and ended up at the shore of the lake. I stared into the water for a while, looking for a glimpse of the giant squid, but even it was leaving me to be alone today. I settled on the flattest rock I could find and pulled a book out of my bag, determined to try and forget about my loneliness for a while by losing myself in someone else’s story.

I had managed to read a few chapters, only stopping briefly to cast a warming charm on my cloak as the sun started its descent. I was so gripped by the story that I didn’t hear him until he was close to me. It was the flash of green that I saw first, just out of the corner of my eye. He was still wearing his quidditch robes, his usually perfect blonde hair windswept from flying, his cheeks stained pink with the cold. It was strange to see Malfoy look anything other than perfectly put together.

Without a word, he walked across the pebbled beach and sat down on a rock near to me. Not next to me, not close enough to touch, but close enough that it wasn’t accidental that he had chosen that spot. We hadn’t spoken in two weeks. Not since he has said those things to me and I had stormed away from him, sending a whole aisle of library books cascading down on him. I’d been half expecting Madame Pince or even McGonagall to pull me up about it, but strangely they never did. Malfoy seemed to have kept that altercation to himself.

For two weeks, things had been awkward between us, not a word spoken, not one bit of eye contact. Nothing. It was like each of us was pretending that the other didn’t even exist. Once or twice I had thought he had been about to say something, but he never did. He had stayed resolutely silent. Which begged the question, what was he doing here now?

I waited for a few moments, giving him an opportunity to explain what he was doing, but no explanation came.

‘You know Hogwarts is over four hundred thousand square feet,’ I informed him.

He took a deep breath before he flicked his eyes to me, staring and waited for me to elaborate. ‘You’re telling me this why?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘My point is this castle is huge. Could you not find somewhere else to sit?’

‘Probably,’ he shrugged, returning his gaze to the water. ‘But I like the view from here. Besides the lake is big enough. I’m sure we can manage to ignore each other just fine.’

We sat in silence for a long time. Me pretending to read my book, while he stared out at the water, his elbows resting on his knees. I surreptitiously tried to watch him out the corner of my eye, wondering what he was up to, but he just sat still as a statue, staring at some fixed point in the distance.

‘I’m sorry.’

The voice was quiet but clear. Yet even though I knew what he had said, even though logically I knew that he must be saying it to me, I still found myself asking. ‘Excuse me?’

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as if the words were causing him physical pain. ‘I’m sorry.’

The words were louder this time, but I could see the effort those words cost him. I had a feeling that he had probably uttered them only a handful of times in his life, and that he probably had never expected to be uttering them to me. Yet I couldn’t help myself but ask, ‘For what, _specifically_ are you apologising for?’

His lip quirked up and I wasn’t sure if it was because he found my question amusing or if he was amused that I was finding fault with his apology. Yet his amusement pricked at my annoyance.

‘For saying that you despised me, when all I was trying to do say thank you. For calling me a bitch?’ I asked. ‘Or for saying that I deserved to be assaulted.’

He visibly winced but he still wasn’t looking at me. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘No?’ I questioned, shrugging. ‘You still said it.’

His eyes flicked briefly to me before flicking away again. ‘I was being a dick.’

I gave a scoffing noise of agreement, before we lapsed back into a strange silence.

We sat awkwardly for a few more minutes as the waves lapped against the shore and a few owls flew overhead. He broke the silence again, speaking, but still not looking at me. ‘You told McGonagall. About McLaggen.’

I looked at him for a moment, wondering why he was asking. ‘Yeah, I did.’

He nodded. ‘Good.’

I stared at him again, wondering why he would even care. I took in his profile as he once again stared out at the gentle waves. His face was its usual blank mask of emotions, but something was working behind his eyes. Some inner turmoil was working within those grey depths and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was. He reached down and picked at a spot on his quidditch glove. Presumably, the match was now over, but that begged the question even more, what was he doing here with me.

‘Did you win?’ I found myself asking, thinking that maybe he had lost and had been trying to escape for a while. But to my surprise, he nodded.

‘Congratulations, I guess.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, not looking like a person who had just won a quidditch game. Not looking in the slightest bit happy at all.

Confused and wondering why I was prompting a conversation, I found myself asking, ‘Shouldn’t you be in your common room, celebrating?’

He shrugged again. ‘Didn’t feel like it.’

I frowned over at him, wondering what on Earth what was wrong with him. Draco Malfoy usually relished any opportunity for public adoration. Although now that I thought about, it had been a while since I had seen him in quidditch robes. ‘Didn’t you quit playing quidditch?’

‘Yep,’ he said simply.

I waited for him to elaborate and he sighed again when he saw me looking at him, waiting for him to explain.

‘I didn’t have much time for quidditch in sixth year. My mind was rather preoccupied.’

‘Right,’ I said simply. Of course, he had been too busy for quidditch back then. He had been rather preoccupied, trying to kill the greatest wizard of our time. Something that he hadn’t been overly successful at. At the time, Harry and I had both noted how ill he looked that year. How pale and stressed he had been as he struggled with his mission. Although in his clumsy attempts, he had ending up cursing Katie Bell and even poisoned Ron too. If it hadn’t been for Harry’s quick thinking, Ron would be dead.

If he had noticed me blanch, he didn’t acknowledge it. ‘My mother made me try out. Get things back to normal.’ He sounded bitter about it.

‘Is it working?’

For the first time since he had come to the beach, he turned around to look again me and the blank expression he so carefully crafted, shattered.

‘No. It isn’t working. Nothing is working. I hate being back here. I can’t stand it. Everywhere I go, everywhere I look. It’s like a prison. Like I can’t breathe. I think they knew. I think they knew what it would be like for me here and this was just their way of punishing me even more.

He reached down and picked up a stone that was beside his foot and launched it towards the lake. It soared high through the air before splashing into the water, a few metres away from the shoreline.

‘Sometimes I wish they’d just put me in Azkaban. Sometimes I think it would have been easier than having to come back here.’

I stared at him as he spoke, barely breathing, equally mesmerised and horrified.

‘My life feels like it’s falling apart. Like I’m just sitting there every day, as life carries on around me and I just don’t get how people have forgotten everything so quickly. How they can just act like nothing’s wrong. None of the others can possibly understand what I’ve been through. They don’t get it. They were kept safe by their parents, safe because of their pure blood, safe because they were a Slytherin,’ he said with dry disgust. ‘They don’t have a clue what it was like.

‘And I can’t go home. They won’t let me just leave. But even if they did, it wouldn’t be any better. It would be trading one nightmare for another, because that house is filled with memories too. I hate what happened there.’ His face twisted and cold hard anger filled his voice. ‘I hate that my parents let it happen. I hate that because of them I got dragged into it. I hate that they won’t even talk to me about it. Like if we just carry on and pretend that none of it happened, then everything will just go back to normal and we’ll all just be okay when clearly we’re fucking not.’

All of the anger left him, deflating him, until he sagged forward as if all of the energy had been sucked out of him. A tear splashed down my cheek before I could stop it and I brushed it away quickly before he could see.

‘I can’t sleep. Every night. Always the same. Every single night. I just… can’t.’

I was overwhelmed. It pressed down on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Because I felt like I understood. I understood him. After all I was feeling the same thing.

Draco sat up suddenly and his eyes narrowed on me. ‘I haven’t told anyone that.’

‘Why are you telling _me?_ ’ I asked, still unable to look away.

He contemplated me for a moment and for a moment I didn’t think he was going to answer.

‘Because I’m being haunted and I sense you know all about being haunted.’

Horrified that he could see that, I shook my head. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’

‘I know lots about you,’ he retorted, shifting slightly so that he was facing me, looking me straight in the eyes. ‘I know that you hate being back here just as much as I do. I know that things aren’t great with your friends. I know that you’re barely managing to pay attention in classes, that you just stare at books,’ he nodded to the book in my hand, ‘that you just pretend to read them. I know that you have that scar on your arm that you always hide. And I know that there’s a sadness in your eyes that you try to hide with a fake smile, but I can see it.’

He paused as I tried to recover from the shock of his knowing all of that information about me. He took that moment to lean in slowly towards me, looking deep into my eyes, stopping when he was mere inches away from me. When I didn’t say anything- I couldn’t for fear that the emotions swirling inside me would bubble over- he continued his words. 'Don't think that I know nothing about you, Granger, because I do. Right now, I'm probably the person that knows you the best. I would bet that even Potter and Weasley don't know any of that.'

As I looked up at him, unable to breathe, I examined his face and saw not a trace of amusement or mocking in his features or in his eyes. He looked so genuine and the words that he spoke were so accurate that it was if he was reading my mind.

'How do you know all of that?' I asked quietly, 'How do you know so much about me?' I added, hesitantly lifting my eyes to meet his.

'Because I've been watching you,’ he answered, his mouth twitching in discomfort as he saw the confused shock on my face. ‘I’m a Slytherin. I’m observant,’ he added as if that was more than enough justification.

'Is there any particular reason that you've been watching me?' I asked questioningly, trying not to sound too discomfited.

'I was curious,' he said shrugging slightly. 'You just seemed different this year and then after the potions incident and McLaggen, I couldn't help but watch you. The more I saw, the more I needed to know.’

'What do you mean?' I asked surprised at his response.

At this he sighed and moved back away from me, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He was biting his lip slightly, as if assessing what he should say next. ‘Because whenever I look at you, I see the same thing haunting you that’s haunting me. And I can’t help but think that out of everyone, you might understand.’

Part of me wanted to open up to him. To let it all out and be free. But a larger part of me wasn’t sure that I wanted to. I wasn’t ready to share it. Least of all with Draco Malfoy. I had lost so much in the last twelve months. I had lost so many people. So many people who were supposed to be there for me and weren’t. So many people who I was supposed to be able to rely on who had turned their backs on me. But opening up to Draco Malfoy, opening my heart to him, spilling my secrets, my heartache, that wasn’t a chance that I could take. Because I had already lost so many people and opening up to Draco Malfoy, letting him into my life, that would only ever end one way. I couldn’t take that chance, because losing someone else, having someone else walk away from me, would break me. 

‘I’m sorry,’ I pushed up from the stone that I was sitting on, nearly toppling over in my haste. ‘I have to go.’

And so, I left him there. Alone. Sitting by the lake, watching me run away from him.

After he had just given so much of himself to me.

And I had never hated myself more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely words after the last chapter. It means a lot. If you read the first version of this story, you'll see that this is a brand new chapter.  
> As usual, please add kudos, bookmark and please let me know your thoughts as I love to know what you think.  
> I've also uploaded a chapter image onto Tumblr if you want to check it out.


	13. Chapter 13 - Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I turned around to face him, knowing that it was finally time to take a chance.'

Chapter 13- Chance

The days in October continued to tick past and with every day that passed I felt more and more that I had made a mistake.

Every day Draco and I sat beside each other in Potions class and the wall that I had put up firmly between us had doubled in strength, except this time it was his wall, his barrier keeping me away. I knew why he was doing it. I had hurt him. He had told me the truth, he had bared his soul to me, opened a window and allowed me to see inside and I had. I had looked inside, I had seen all of him, all of his fears and worries and I had slammed that window shut and walked away. I had rejected him. I had hurt him. Just like people had been doing to me.

In the days that followed I found myself watching him more and more. He was often alone. Sitting apart from the other Slytherins. Occasionally he would sit with Pansy or Blaise, but other days he would sit completely alone. He would eat his meal; sometimes he would stay and do schoolwork, other days he would leave the second his fork hit his plate. The more I watched, the more I noticed the reactions that the other Slytherins had to him. Some flinched back from him any time he came near, looking almost afraid, others looked at him with open hostility. But he didn’t once show that it bothered him. But I knew differently. I knew deep down that he was struggling and it wasn’t hard to see why. I at least had my friends around me, even if it did feel like there was a strange rift between us. He however, had no one.

One evening when we were sitting having dinner; one of the rare occasions when it just Harry, Ron and me, I found myself looking over at him again, I couldn’t help but ask the others what they thought, needing to voice the thoughts swirling around my head before they drove me crazy.

‘Have you noticed that Malfoy always seems to be on his own?’

The others turned their heads to glance over at the Slytherin table.

‘I hadn’t really noticed,’ Harry said slowly, giving me a strange look.

‘Who cares,’ Ron muttered through a mouthful of food. ‘Who would want to sit beside such an evil git anyway?’

I glanced back over my shoulder to Malfoy who was still eating, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. I turned back around to find that Harry was still watching me.

‘Why do you ask?’ he probed.

‘I don’t know. I just noticed that’s all.’ I gave a small shrug trying to seem like it was nothing and helped myself to another bread roll, simply for something to do, but I could still feel Harry’s eyes on me, watching. As I pulled a piece of the roll apart and put it into my mouth, I looked at Harry to find that he was still watching me.

‘What?’

He looked over to the spot behind my shoulder that I forced myself not to look too, as he raised an eyebrow at me in question.

‘I was just curious,’ I defended. ‘I just, I mean, do you think that he’s changed?’

Harry’s eyes widened slightly before they furrowed and his face was no longer speculative, it was worried.

Ron scoffed into his cottage pie. ‘Yeah right. A hippogriff can’t change its feathers.’

Ron’s opinion was to be expected. Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley were two people who were destined to always hate each other, regardless of what happened between them. Draco could literally sprout angel wings and Ron would still think he was the devil in disguise.

'Harry?' I asked, looking to the one person whose opinion I truly wanted. The person I could trust to give me an honest and rational answer.

‘I really don’t know, Hermione. I mean you remember how he used to be. All of the things he used to say to you, to me, to Ron.’

‘But do you think it’s possible?’ I prompted. ‘I mean do you think it’s possible for people to change?’

Before Harry could begin to answer, to verbalise whatever thought was in his head that was making him look at me in the way he was looking at me, Ron finally seemed to have dragged it face out of his dinner and tuned into the conversation.

‘Why are we even talking about this?’ he said, anger clouding his expression.

‘Why are we talking about what?’ Lavender asked, as she slid into the table beside Ron, sidling up to him, stealing a green bean off his plate and slipping it into her mouth.

I slumped back away from the table, knowing that any attempt at a serious conversation was over.

‘Hermione is just singing Malfoy’s praises. Trying to convince us all that he’s changed.’

Both Ron and Lavender looked at me, giving me a look that made me want to crawl under the table and hide.

‘That’s not what I said.’

‘So, you think that Draco Malfoy has changed?’ Lavender asked and I could feel all of their eyes on me, watching and I squirmed under their judgement. ‘The Slytherin, the one who killed Dumbledore, the one who let death eaters into the castle, the one who became a death eater himself and did Merlin knows what else. That Draco Malfoy?’

Lavender’s voice had been increasing in volume as she rhymed off her list. I leaned over the table, keeping my voice low, trying not to cause a scene.

‘That’s not what I said. I never said that I thought he had changed. I was just making an observation. I just asked a question.’

She leaned into the table matching my gaze. ‘Well, maybe you should keep your _observations_ to yourself. In case you’ve forgotten, he’s not the victim here.’

Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders, looking at her sympathetically. Lavender had been lucky to survive the battle at Hogwarts, even if she hadn’t come out of it unscathed. She often wore scarves or high-necked tops but a few times at night, I had seen the tops of the scars at the base of her neck.

‘He shouldn’t even be back here.’ She turned her glare to the Slytherin table. ‘None of them them should. If it were up to me, they would already be in Azkaban. Or better yet, get the dementors to give them the kiss.’

‘That’s a bit extreme don’t you think. Most of them weren’t even at the battle.’

‘Cut the head off the snake before it has a chance to strike. That’s what I think.’

‘But don’t you think-‘ I began, ready to argue with her, ready to try and defend all of the Slytherins who were only in their first year and were already treated with suspicion; for all of the Slytherins who weren’t pure bloods and didn’t follow their beliefs; for all of the Slytherins who had been brought up by parents who had instilled in them one set of beliefs and didn’t know any better. But I didn’t get that chance, as Harry cut across me.

‘Lavender, did you see Ginny in the common room?’

My mouth hung open and I turned to Harry, ready to chastise him for cutting me off, but I saw him give me a small shake of his head, giving me a warning and I sighed in defeat. He was right. This wasn’t the time or the place and Lavender and Ron certainly weren’t the people to have this debate with. Both of them had lost so much, they would never be able to see the Slytherins with anything other than mistrust, fear and anger. But as the conversation continued around, moving onto more trivial matters, my mind was preoccupied. Because I never did get an answer to my question; had Draco Malfoy truly changed?

Harry continued to watch me after after that and I had to force myself not to look in Draco Malfoy’s direction. Not that there was anything to see. In class he was as remote as ever. Our Saturday afternoon detention was more of the same, only with our close proximity and with it just being the two of us, it was fuelled with a strange tension that I didn’t understand. There was no sign that he was angry with me, but he was still cool and distant. He continued to read from the list of books, ticking them off diligently as I located them and assessed their condition. But I couldn’t help but think that he looked tired. Tired and alone.

Feeling even more ashamed of myself, of my treatment of him since that day when he had confided in me, I suddenly realised that I wasn’t as intimidated by him anymore. He seemed more human, more real, because I understood him and for the first time in what felt like a very long time, it seemed like someone understood me.

He was in pain and for whatever reason, he had decided to share that pain with me. I knew he was angry with me and he was probably right to be so. Which is why I knew deep down that it was time for me to be brave.

I put back the heavy book on the shelf and with a deep breath, I turned around to face him, knowing that it was finally time to take a chance. ‘I have nightmares, too.’

Draco’s head popped up to look at me, his quill stopping in mid movement from where he sat at a table.

‘Not every night. But most nights. That makes it worse, I think. Because I never know when they’ll appear. Most of them are about what happened at the battle, sometimes it’s your aunt and more recently Cormac.’

His eyes were watching me, but his face still had that eerily blank expression. ‘You don’t have to tell me this.’

‘I do,’ I insisted, although I didn’t fully understand why. ‘I want to.’

He gave a nod, but his expression remained the same.

‘I hate being here. I feel guilty all of the time. Ever since I came to Hogwarts it’s been my job to help Harry, to solve the puzzle, to put the clues together. But this time, the most important one, I took too long. I didn’t figure it all out until far too late.’ Thinking back to those nights in the tent, the endless days of hiding and fighting for survival, all the while trying to understand the mystery of Tom Riddle, it all seemed like it was from another lifetime. Like it had happened to somebody else.

‘We used to listen to the radio every night and they’d read out the list if the names of people who were dead and I knew that it was partly my fault because I was taking too long. Because this was one puzzle that I couldn’t solve.

‘Then we came to Hogwarts and I thought it might be easier. That I might be able to forget about everything that happened and get life back to normal. But that didn’t happen. I keep seeing all those faces, all of those people who didn’t make it and again I feel like it’s my fault. Like I should have done more.’ I forced myself to blink back those memories and with them the tears. ‘And being back here I just feel lost. Because for years I’ve always had a purpose, a focus and now it’s all gone, and I don’t know who I am or what I’m supposed to do.’

Understanding entered the hardness in his expression, giving me enough strength to continue.

‘I just feel so alone. Everyone else seems to just be able to get on with things but then Harry has Ginny and Ron has moved on with Lavender and that’s totally fine because I don’t think we were right for each other anyway, but it still hurts that he just ignored me when I needed him, especially after he kissed me and I still don’t know what I did wrong or what changed.’

Something flickered in his gaze, but I didn’t stop to wonder what it was, because I was on a roll. Every thought, every worry, every bad feeling that I’d had was pouring out and I was helpless to stop it.

‘And then things with my parents…’ I paused as the words stuck in my throat.

‘What happened?’ he asked, his voice hoarse as some other emotion entered his eyes.

My lip trembled, and I looked away, knowing that if I looked at him, then I wouldn’t be able to get the words out.

‘I had to change their memories to keep them safe. I couldn’t just make them forget about me because they could still be found and used against me. I had to change their entire memories. I had to change their entire lives. I had to make them forget that I even existed. I wanted to make them happy in case I didn’t come back. But I did it too well. Because now they have two realities in their heads, and I know that if they had a choice, they’d choose the life that I created for them. The life where I don’t exist, and I know they resent me for bringing them back here. I feel like I’ve lost everything, and I don’t even know if any of it was worth it.’

There was a long moment of silence where I was afraid to look at him. I had behaved horribly to him in the same situation. I was almost expecting for him to retaliate in kind. But he didn’t. 

‘It was.’

I looked up at him, startled to see him looking at me, with something like regret in his eyes. ‘Pardon?’

He stared at me for a moment as if debating what to say. ‘It was worth it. If you hadn’t done what you did, they would be dead.’

I shook my head at him dismissively. ‘You can’t know that for sure.’

‘Actually, I can. They found your house. Hampstead, right?’

I felt my chest tighten as I nodded, stunned, because he was right. My house was in Hampstead. But he couldn’t have known that, not unless…

‘He sent a group to investigate but they didn’t find anything. If you hadn’t sent them away, they would have been killed and it wouldn’t have been quick. You saved them.’

On a breath I found myself asking. ‘You’re sure.’

He gave me a long and weighty stare and then nodded.

The guilt I had been trying to keep buried was eviscerated by relief, by the sense of vindication that I had been right. That it had been worth it, even if it had cost me everything. But as the guilt vanished, it just left space for raw grief. It felt like my ribs were being crushed with the weight of it and I sank to the floor as the tears let loose, spilling down my cheeks one after the other.

I was crying so hard that it took me a moment to realise that Draco had got out of his chair. I heard his footsteps, felt his presence behind me as he sank to the floor beside me. He didn’t touch me, he didn’t need to. I could feel the heat of him beside me, the comfort of his warmth and his presence bringing out even more of my tears.

Even when my sobs calmed, we just sat there. Not speaking, not touching and yet somehow I felt more peaceful and more calm than I had in months.

‘Hermione! Earth to Hermione. Come in, Hermione. Hermione!’

I blinked, at the sounds of my name, jolted out of my thoughts to find myself sitting in the great hall with an exasperated Harry and a bewildered Ginny in front of me.

‘What does that mean? Why are you giving her the earth?’

‘I’m not,’ Harry sighed. ‘It’s a muggle thing. It means- you know what never mind.’

‘Where the hell were you? I said your name about three times.’

Not for the first time, my mind had gone back to that moment in the library. I had tried not to think about it, but it was proving too difficult. My mind kept going back to that moment where I had opened myself up to Draco Malfoy and made myself completely vulnerable. After all of this time, I had chosen someone to finally be open with, to be honest with. I had probably told him more than I had ever told Harry or even Ron and they were the people I trusted most in the world. Yet for some strange reason, the person I had chosen to open up to, had to be the one person that I knew could hurt me more than anyone else. He had done it so many times before and he could easily do it again.

‘Sorry. I was just thinking about my arimancy homework,’ I lied, offering an explanation. ‘I think I may have made a computational error in the question on on the Ostanes Theorem.’

‘Right,’ Harry said slowly, shooting a bewildered look at Ginny. She simply shrugged her shoulders back.

‘Don’t look at me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what she’s talking about either.’

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’ He stood up and grabbed his bag from under the table. ‘Shall we get to class.’

As we made our way to potions class I was distracted and jumpy, waiting for my first sight of him. As I sat in my seat, I kept watching the door, looking for that first flash of blonde. I hadn’t seen him since I had left the library after our detention, nearly two days before. We had eventually both shot to our feet when we heard Madame Pince’s voice in the next aisle, giving someone into trouble for placing their ink too close to an open book. Then she came to us and told us that our detention was over, and we had both gathered our things and left without another word.

It wasn’t until after I’d left that I worried about what I had done. About the fact that I had made myself vulnerable. Yet alongside the worry, I felt relief. Relief that I never expected to feel. I had told him all of my worst fears, all of my deepest secrets and about the guilt that I had been holding close to my heart and he hadn’t run away. He hadn’t looked at me like I was a bad person. He hadn’t looked at me like I was responsible for everything that had happened. He hadn’t looked at me in pity. He hadn’t looked at me like I deserved to be alone.

As if my thoughts had conjured him into existence, he appeared at the doorway to the classroom, stopping in his tracks when he saw me watching him. He held my eyes as he made his way to his seat. When he sat down, he peeked over at me and one side of his mouth quirked up. But not in a sneer, not in a smirk, in the first genuine smile I had ever seen Draco Malfoy give. It was a smile of shared understanding. A smile to ask if I was okay. It was a smile, that as I met his eyes, I returned. 


	14. Chapter 14 - Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Something had changed between us. It was small at first. So small that I didn't even notice it.'

Chapter 14 - Changed

Something had changed between us. It was small at first. So small that I didn’t even notice it. We never spoke about what had happened; about everything that we’d said to one another, about the things that we’d shared, but somehow it felt like we didn’t need to.

Potions class was just the same as it had always been. In that regard nothing had changed at all. We worked together and completed whatever that week’s assignment was. But we barely spoke. We barely even looked at each other.

But detention was different.

We didn’t talk much. Not at first anyway. After we had shared so much with each other things were at first a little awkward, but we soon eased back into our routine, except this time it was void of any hostility or bitterness. It was just strangely comfortable.

At first it was just a question. Asking to pass a book or the next roll of parchment. Asking what time it was. Then it was hello and goodbye at the start and end of detention. Then how was I getting on with the transfiguration assignment? Or telling me to have a good weekend.  
  


It was the week after when things progressed beyond general niceties. We had finished cataloguing the extensive remedies section and were beginning in the fiction section. Hogwarts fiction section was small in comparison to the many others in the library that were needed to help students with their studies and assignments, but it was one with which I was well acquainted. As a voracious reader, it wasn’t just the extensive range of new knowledge offered by the Hogwarts library that had appealed to me as a wide eyed first year, but the endless new stories and adventures that were now at my fingertips caused an equal amount of excitement.

Throughout our detentions Draco and I had taken turns alternating between reading aloud from the scrolls and ticking off the list of books we found and describing any damage or looking through the shelves to find the books. Once again it was my turn to locate the book from the shelves.

It was late on Wednesday evening and we had been working for over an hour and I had been sitting crossed legged on the floor looking for books on the bottom shelf. I reached above my head, stretching out my aching muscles. Draco looked over at me from where he sat comfortably at the desk.

‘We can swap if you want?’

I looked up, surprised as usual when he spoke to me. It been happening more and more often, yet every time it still felt strange.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I replied, giving him a small smile as I rubbed at the back of my neck with my fingers. A smile that that I quickly let drop as I saw him watching me intently. I cleared my throat and with it, cleares the tension in the air. ‘Right. What’s next?’

‘Favian Carntyne. Fire and Shadow.’

‘Oh, I know that one.’ My hand immediately found the red leather cover embossed with black lettering. I couldn’t help as my hand fondly traced over the title and the picture of the young wizard on the front as he stood surrounded by sparks and flames. I flicked through the pages, skimming over some of my favourite scenes.

‘You read it?’

I looked up to find Draco once again watching me intently, and I blushed under his scrutiny. ‘Pardon?’

‘Have you read it? The book,’ he clarified, nodding at my hands as I continued to stare at him mutely.

‘Only about five times.’ I looked back down the book, smiling fondly. ‘It’s one of my favourites.’

My head rose sharply when I heard a derisive snort from the wizard beside me.

‘What?’ I snapped.

He shook his head in a dismissive gesture, doing his best to look contrite, but my irritation had spiked. If there was one thing that I would not tolerate, it was mocking the books that I loved.

‘What’s wrong with it?’ I questioned, folding my arms in front of me.

‘Nothing, if you like sentimental mush.’

‘You’ve read it?’ I asked, surprised that he knew enough about this book to have formed an opinion. Even if it was the wrong opinion.

He gave a non-committal shrug. ‘I started it and then skipped to the end.’

As I stared at him, muted in horror, he rolled his eyes. ‘I know that judgey little face. What?’

My mouth twisted in annoyance, but I just raised my chin and turned back to the bookcase, not sure if he was merely baiting me into an argument. ‘What’s next?’

‘Come on, he prompted, ignoring my question. 'Just say it. You know you’re dying too.' 

Annoyingly, he was right and as I spun back around; I could see the remnants of his satisfied smirk as he wiped it from his face.

‘One,’ I began, beginning the count on my fingers, ‘it is not sentimental mush. Two, you can’t make that judgement if you barely even read half the book and three, I can’t believe you are one of those people that skips to the end of a book.’

I would swear I saw the infinitesimal quirk of his lip but as quick as I saw it, it was gone, and he was back to serious. ‘How else will I know whether or not it’s worth my time? No point reading if it’s got a shit ending.’

‘So, you only read a book if it’s got a happy ending?’

He shrugged, nonplussed by the judgement in my voice. ‘On the rare occasions that I read, then yes. Believe me if I wanted to depress myself there are quicker ways.’

My eyes flashed to his, but he was looking back to the table in front of him. I could let the comment go. We could revert back into silence and just pretend that it didn’t happen, but there was that look in his eyes again and I found that I didn’t want to. ‘But that’s not real life at all. Not all endings are happy, Malfoy. That’s what makes them worth reading. Besides you don’t read a book for the ending, you read for the journey. Seeing what the characters go through. Seeing what they learn about themselves. Whether it’s love, bravery, truth, perseverance, forgiveness. That’s the best part.'

He gave me a long weighty of stare before he spoke. ‘But that guy in the book, Marron- ‘

‘Marek,’ I corrected instantly.

‘He was a complete arse. His wife should have hexed him and then left him. He was no better at the end of the book than he was at the start.’

‘But she loved him.’

‘She shouldn’t have,’ he scoffed. ‘He wasn’t worthy of her love.’

‘Maybe not,’ I conceded. ‘But isn’t that what love is? Being with someone even though you know all of their flaws. Accepting them for their mistakes. He wasn’t prefect but he realised his mistakes in the end.’

‘Yeah, and in the end, he left her.’

‘Because he realised that he couldn’t make her happy,’ I explained. ‘He knew that he wasn’t the right man for her. That he couldn’t give her everything that she needed, everything that she wanted, so he loved her enough to let her go.’

‘Yeah, and that’s not depressing.’

I shook my head, adamantly, for some reason determined to make him understand. ‘No, it’s not. It’s beautiful.’

‘Not sure you understand the concept, Granger, but then I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s that what Gryffindors are like, endlessly optimistic.’ His tone was light, teasing almost, but his expression didn’t match his words.

‘Not always,’ I said on a soft laugh. ‘But it is beautiful. To love someone that much that you would give up everything for them, just to make them happy. It might not be the perfect happy ending, but that’s what makes it even more beautiful. Sometimes those stories, the ones that are the hardest to take, are the stories that are the most beautiful.'

For a few beats Draco stared at me intently, his grey eyes meeting my brown ones. My heart started pounding at the look in his eyes and I wondered what he was thinking. Then he said, his voice a hoarse whisper, ‘Right,’ and it was a long moment before his eyes eventually released mine.

That following weekend was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. I of course knew that I wouldn’t be able to go, yet strangely, I didn’t feel upset at the fact that my friends would all be going without me. After everything that had happened with Cormac, Harry and Ginny had stayed close to me, making sure that I was ok, but after I had continued to insist that I was fine, they had begun to spend more of their ‘alone’ time together. I was glad that things between them seemed to be fine again, but then it had the resulting consequence that it left Ron and I together. Alone.

Ron had been too busy with Lavender to truly notice that something was wrong with me, or to notice all the concerned looks and little chats both Harry and Ginny had been giving me to make sure that I was ok. But as time went on, that started to change. Things between Lavender and Ron hadn't been going well, which had the resulting consequence that he had spent more time with us, something which, if the look on Lavender’s face was any sort of indication, was not helping matters. Occasionally he would meet Lavender in the evening or have dinner with her, but he tended to storm back into the common room a short time later with an angry expression on his face. I didn't ask why. I knew I was being a horrible friend, but I had been in the middle of Ron and Lavender's drama once before and I had no desire to repeat the experience.

So, with Harry and Ginny 'busy', Ron and I had been spending more time together. All throughout the summer, I would have given anything to have just had an hour alone with Ron. Even just the month before I would have been desperate just to have the time to simply talk to him, to spend time with him and try to reconnect. Yet in such a short space of time, everything had changed. Ron was still my friend, he always would be, but he had hurt me, and I wasn’t quite ready to forgive him yet. Spending so much time with him again, him acting like there was nothing wrong, like everything between us hadn’t ever happened, continued to exacerbate a wound that still hadn’t fully healed.  
  
There were some moments when I could almost forget about everything that had happened, when I could just think of Ron as my friend. As he sat beside me, as he walked me to class, as he helped me to carry my books if they were too heavy or when he made me laugh, I could almost pretend that we had gone back in time to before everything had gotten so complicated between us. I could tell that he was trying, but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t bring myself to lower the hand I had held up to keep him at bay.

If he sensed that there was still a rift between us, he never said and he never showed it. For some reason Ron seemed determined to put himself firmly back into my life and I was glad to let him. Glad to simply have my friend back. Glad that we could finally get things back to normal and how they used to be. 

It turned out that Ron had different ideas. 

Ron and I were sitting alone together having an early dinner on Friday evening before I was going to help him with the latest Transfiguration homework. I hadn’t forgotten what he had said to me the night of the Gryffindor party and if I couldn't help him with his relationship then I would at least help him in the best way that I could. While we were eating, I was reading over a chapter from my Ancient Runes homework while Ron chatted happily beside me. He was quite happy to have a one-sided conversation where I was only required to give the occasional ‘yep’ and ‘uh- huh’, while I only half listened to what he was saying. Something that I would come to regret.  
  
‘So what do you think then?’ Ron said.

I turned my head back to Ron, once again realising that I hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying. Mainly due the fact that I had once again just gotten distracted by a flash of white- blonde hair entering into the great hall. My eyes had followed him all the way to the Slytherin table. He was alone again. He walked, head bent down, stopping halfway down the table before sitting down in an empty seat, before helping himself to some roast beef.  
  
‘Sorry, what?’ I said, watching Ron as he sat opposite from me, aware that he seemed to be waiting for some kind of response.  
  
‘I said, what do you think?’ he replied, with what seemed like hope in his eyes.  
  
There were of course three options. The first I discounted immediately. I didn’t want to admit to Ron that I hadn’t been listening. Again! So that left me with just two choices. Yes or no. But which one to choose? There was of course no way to know the right answer, so I made my decision, keeping everything crossed that it was the right one.  
  
‘Em, sure,’ I said slowly, waiting nervously for his response. Luckily for me he seemed to sigh in relief and his eyes visibly brightened.  
  
‘Great, so how about Puddifoots then? We can do a bit of shopping first if you like?’

'Sorry, what?' I asked, completely confused. Whatever I had expected him to say, it wasn't that.

'Tomorrow. You and me are going to Puddifoots.'

'We are?' I asked in surprise, my heart immediately flipping and not in a good way. I suddenly realised, far too late what he was asking me. The next day was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year and by the sounds of it, Ron had just invited me to spend the day with him. In Puddifoots no less. The pink, frilly, lace- covered, fluffy, hearts on every surface, couples make- out zone tearoom in Hogsmeade that you only ever went to if you were dating. And since Ron was already dating someone, I quizzically asked, 'Shouldn't you be taking your girlfriend to Puddifoots?'

'Lavender's not my girlfriend anymore,' he said simply, giving a small shrug. 'We broke up.'

'Oh,' I said not entirely surprised. The writing had been on the wall for a while. I briefly wondered who had done the actual breaking up, but I knew that now was not the time to ask, so instead I settled for, 'Ron, I'm sorry.'

'It doesn't matter,' he said, waving a hand as if he were swotting away an irritating fly. 'So tomorrow?'  
  
I looked to Ron still confused, wondering why on earth he wanted to go to Puddifoots and why he wanted to go with me. Puddifoots was the notorious haunt for couples, or for people who wanted to be. It was not the place that two friends would ever go. Perhaps he had already booked the table and now that he couldn't go with Lavender, he was trying to take me instead. Whatever his motivations, I would never find out, as I had to turn his offer down.  
  
‘Oh, Ron, I’m sorry, I can't go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I have my detention, remember.' I felt part relief at having escaped a trip to Puddifoots but increasingly guilty as Ron's hopeful expression fell.  
  
‘But surely you can still go to Hogsmeade? I mean I’m sure if you asked McGonagall, she would let you go. Couldn’t you ask her?’ Ron asked hopefully.  
  
I gave a short laugh just thinking of McGonagall's face if I went up to her asked to skip my detention all so that I could go to Puddifoots instead. She would probably double my detentions for my efforts. ‘Ron, can you imagine? It’s a detention. She’s hardly going to let me out of it.’  
  
‘But you could at least ask.’  
  
‘Ron, I can't.’  
  
‘But…’  
  
‘Ron, I said no,’ I said definitively, putting an end to the discussion.  
  
‘Fine, don’t bother then. Enjoy your detention. Clearly you’d rather be there than with me.' He stood up and walked away from me. My eyes followed him as he stalked out of the great hall, leaving me wondering what on earth was going on. I mean Puddifoots for goodness sake! What was he thinking? He had made it perfectly clear to me that he didn’t want to be with me. But then if that was true, why was he so angry?  


I sighed deeply wondering why boys were so complicated. Standing up, I gathered my things together and followed Ron’s path out of the great hall. I would go to the library. If Ron wanted my help, then he would know where to find me. As I walked down the central aisle I once again tried and failed not to look over at the Slytherin table. Only this time when I glanced over, my eyes met a pair of steely grey eyes staring straight back. I continued to walk towards the exit, my gaze being forced away when I had to swerve to avoid walking straight into a first year who barely came above my waist. I determinedly didn't look back, even though I could feel the weight of his stare following me with every step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very much appreciated so please take the time to leave even just a few words. Also if you haven’t added kudos or bookmarked then let today be that day!


	15. Chapter 15 - Friends

Chapter 15- Friends

The following day, everyone in the dormitory was up early, desperate to make the most of their first trip to Hogsmeade of the year. Hogsmeade like so many other wizarding communities had been virtually destroyed in the past year by death eaters, Hogsmeade perhaps even more so because of its proximity to Hogwarts. Of the shops that hadn’t been ruined, the rest had closed down due to the lack of customers, but since the fall of Voldemort, the shops had re- opened, the customers had returned, and the town had slowly come back to life. I was almost sorry to miss seeing the place again, but after Ron’s bizarre request the day before, some distance would probably be a good thing.

I stayed in my bed longer than I normally would have; partly not wanting to deal with Lavender and also to make sure I was well out of the way of three girls fighting over one bathroom as they all tried to get ready.

Once they were all gone, I made the most having the place to myself for a while. Hogwarts was the sort of place where you were never alone, even you may have wanted to be. Recently I had hated solitude, yet I had so much going on in my head that I found I actually welcomed some peace and quiet to just think.

When the time came for my detention, I reluctantly put my book down and made my way down to the library. Malfoy was already there when I arrived. He was facing away from me, already laying out the book lists on the nearby table. When I put my bag down on the table, his head whipped around, and he looked at me directly. I expected him to say hello, just like he had for out last few detentions, but instead he just gave me a slight nod of the head before he turned away again.

I stared at him, stung by the sudden coldness in his attitude, but then I thought back to the last time we had been here in the library. To the last conversation we had. I winced as I remembered the things that I said, when I had rambled on about books and redemption and love. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, wondering what on earth I had been thinking? No wonder, he had pulled away. He was probably worrying that I would start rambling on about all of the books that I had read. So, following his lead, I got to work, staying silent the entire time.

The hours of our detention passed slowly. In recent weeks I had found the time spent in the library almost enjoyable. But in the empty silence of the large room, the silence between us only seemed louder.

It was almost a relief when Madame Pince finally came and told us that we could leave. I didn’t even stay to help properly tidy up. I simply stuffed my things back in any space I could find, grabbed my bag and got out of the library as quickly as I could. I needed to think, I needed to breathe, I needed to go somewhere where there was air. I needed to go outside.

I made my way through the empty corridors, walking as fast as I could and gave a huge sigh of relief when I finally burst through the doors and felt the cool air fill my lungs. I marched through the courtyard and once again headed down towards the lake, sitting in the same spot as before. I pulled out the book that I was currently reading, hoping that it would help to take my mind of the weirdness of the last few hours.

I don’t know how long I sat there, completely lost in a book about the Hogwarts founders, when I was suddenly aware that I was not alone.

‘Can I join you?’

I looked up, startled to find Malfoy standing in front of me, silhouetted against the bright autumnal sunshine. I could have said yes and ignored him like before. I could have said no, and I knew that he would probably have done as I asked and left me alone. But I wanted to know. I needed to know why he kept seeking me out. And then why he was shutting me out.

With narrowed eyes, I asked, ‘Why?’

With a heavy sigh that was becoming all too familiar, he quirked up that lip again and said, ‘That is a very good question.’

He sat down on the same rock he had sat on before. Close enough to be near me, but not close enough to touch. I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to say anything, but he sat in silence. I turned away from him, and back to my book, but out of the corner of my eye I could see that his leg was bouncing up and down and he was tapping his fingers lightly on the grey stone in an erratic rhythm. I had never seen Malfoy anything less than cool and composed and it was disconcerting as much as it was distracting. I soon realised that I had read the same paragraph at least ten times with no clue what it was about and so I decided that enough was enough.

With a sigh, I stood up, too tired for another round of trying to figure out the mystery of Draco Malfoy. But before I could take a step, he finally spoke.

‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ he asked as casually as if he were simply asking for the time of day.

‘Excuse me?’ I asked my voice rising in surprise, sure that I must have misheard him.

‘A walk, Granger. You know when you put one foot in front of the other to move forward. A walk?’

I regarded him with confusion, waiting for the explanation, for the joke, for something, because after an afternoon of nothing my emotions were all over the place, and I was tired or pretending that they weren’t. ‘I can’t keep up with you,’ I cried, my arms rising in frustration. ‘I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. What is this? What am I to you? You told me all of those things and then things were fine and then today, just nothing.’

When he continued to simply stare at me, a hard defiance in his eyes, that I knew meant that whatever the truth, he wasn’t going to tell it to me, it was my turn to sigh and turn away. I’d barely made it two steps before I came to a halt.

‘No wait,’ he begged, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. I pulled my hand away from his grasp like it had been burned. As I turned around to glare at him, I stopped short at the look in his eyes. Every inch of him exuded confidence and his usual air of arrogant pride, except for his eyes. In his eyes I saw doubt and vulnerability and it made me hesitate. On one hand every instinct I had told me to run away and not look back, but some other feeling, that feeling that had been recurring deep down in my stomach, told me to reach out and accept whatever strange olive branch he was trying to offer.

Slowly I walked back to the rock I been siting on and I sat, waiting. I looked at him, making it clear that I was waiting for some sort of explanation. That if I was going to stay, then I needed something more from him.

Draco looked over at me a few times, opening and closing his mouth, as if trying to find the right words. But the words he did find, were not what I was expecting.

‘Did you mean what you said the other day?’ His eyes flicked in my direction and I could almost see the faint blush creep up his cheeks. ‘About the most beautiful stories being the most difficult ones to take. Is that really what you think?

I tried not to let my confusion show. Tried not to wince, regretting ever bringing up that bloody book, for ever starting that conversation, but whatever this was, I wanted him to be honest with me, so I was going to be honest back. ‘Yes, I did. Why do you ask?’

‘What sort of story do you think mine is?’ he asked, ignoring my question, but turning around to face me until our eyes locked. ‘Do you think my story has a happy ending?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said slowly, wondering at this strange conversation. I knew that he was struggling with everything that had happened, that he was struggling with being back at Hogwarts, but clearly there was more to it. There was something else that was troubling him and once again it was me that he had come to looking for answers. Answers that I wasn’t sure I had, so I chose my words carefully. ‘I don’t think your ending has been written yet. I think that’s up to you.’

‘Sometimes I don’t think that choice is mine. Everyone will only ever see me one way, no matter what I do.’

His shoulders were slumped, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked defeated. Tendrils of his blonde hair hung over his forehead, dangling into his eyes and I had to fight the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away.

‘I don’t think you can control what other people think of you, but as long as you know deep down inside that you are doing the best that you can, isn’t that all anyone can do?’

‘Yet my best never seems to be good enough,’ he scoffed.

Suddenly it came to me, why he was here. What he wanted me to say. Draco Malfoy had been the school bully who had grown up and had gone onto do unspeakable things. What those things were, I didn’t know, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know, but I could guess. He clearly wanted to move on from his past but didn’t know how to do it and for some reason, he thought I was the person to help him. But that wasn’t something I was sure I could do.

‘If you’re looking for vindication, then I’m not sure that I’m the right person.’

His eyes blazed as they met mine. ‘If not you, then who? Out of everyone in my life, I’ve treated you the worst. And I’ve never met anyone who deserved it less.’

My stomach twisted at his admission and as was my nature, I was so close to instinctively answering that it was okay, that he was forgiven. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay. He had made my life miserable for so long. He had caused so many tears and so much doubt when I never done anything to him, and I wanted to know why out of everyone he had hated me so much. ‘So why did you? Why did you treat me that way?’

He swallowed deeply then took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. ‘Because I was bitter. And I was jealous. I’ve been raised since the day I was born to believe I was the best. I’m the product of two of the greatest and most respected pure blood families our society has. I was brought up being told that I was better than everyone else. That I was special.

‘I hadn’t even got to Hogwarts yet and it was proven just how wrong I was.’ His lip turned up at the corner and I could see the bitterness on his face and hear the resentment in his voice, that still lingered all these years later. ‘All anybody could talk about was Harry Potter. So, I tried to befriend him. After all, if anyone could be my equal, it was him. And he turned me down flat. For a Weasley, no less. He humiliated me.’

I looked at him incredulously and when I spoke it was laced with anger. ‘You caused years of misery and pain because an eleven-year-old wounded your pride?’

‘At first,’ he admitted heavily. ‘My issue was with Potter and Weasley. Until that Summer. That summer I went home, and my parents saw my grades. I was second in every single class. Second to you.’ He glanced over his shoulder at me, giving me a weighty stare. ‘My father was furious. He did not raise a Malfoy to be second. Especially not to someone who hadn’t even been born into wizarding society. He went on and on and on until I hated the mere mention of your name. It just reminded me what a failure I was. How much I was letting him down. How much I was letting the Malfoy name down.’

Part of me could understand the pressures of parents. The pressure to be the best that I could be. The pressure to be better. I had felt that pressure myself. But I had never used that pressure to blame other people. It had always spurned me on to be better than I was.

‘All those things I did to you, everything I said, I’m sorry. They were the words of a scared and stupid boy who thought that putting other people down was the way to put himself on top.’

I regarded him, once again with confusion, half wondering if some imposter had come and taken over Draco Malfoy’s body. This was the second he had apologised to me and I still wasn’t sure that I believed it. But if he could make the effort, then I could at least make an attempt too.

‘I won’t lie and pretend that it didn’t hurt, because it did, but I’d met people like you before; people who thought that because I was different, they could make fun of me. I thought that Hogwarts would be different, but it wasn’t.’

‘Because of me.’

‘Initially,’ I agreed. ‘But as I got older, I got more confident in myself. I knew that I was good enough, that I deserved to be here. I knew that my blood didn’t make me less. And to be honest, I had such a low opinion of you that I didn’t really care what you thought of me.’

‘And do you still? Have a low opinion of me?’

I bit my lip, feeling my stomach squirm with emotion as he looked over at me from underneath his eyelashes. ‘I don’t really know you.’

He nodded, as if expecting my answer, but looking disappointed, nonetheless. ‘But do you think… do you think that it’s possible for a person to change? To be better than they were?

‘Like I said, I think all people can do is to try…’

‘But somebody evil, somebody who’s done unspeakable things, do you think they can change?’

I felt my stomach tighten, worried about the direction if the conversation. ‘Why are you asking me this?’

‘Because I need to know?’ he implored.

‘Why me, though?’

‘Because I know you’ll be honest with me.’

I bit my lip and looked away from him again, not able to see the pain and torment in his eyes for a moment longer. Because I knew what he was really asking me. He was really asking me if I thought that he was evil. If I thought that he could change.

‘Well,’ he promoted when I continued to stay silent. ‘Can someone evil change? Can they become good again?’

He had asked me to be honest, so I gave him my honest answer. ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No, I don’t think that somebody truly evil can change. I thought of Voldemort. Of Bellatrix. Of the atrocities they had committed. ‘Dark magic like that, using so much of it, it changes who you are on the inside, until it becomes your true nature. Until hurting others, killing others becomes as easy as breathing; until you barely even feel it even more. Did you know that the killing curse fractures your soul? That level of dark magic, literally rips your soul apart and I don’t think any amount of good could ever reverse that.’

He slumped forward and rested his elbows on his knees, bringing his hands up to his face, running his fingers through his hair before pulling back, covering his face with his hands once again; still pulling hard on the ends of his hair.

‘So, there’s no hope for me then?’

He looked so desolate and so defeated that despite my best intentions I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. The strong self-assured man with the steely grey eyes and an exterior to match, who never betrayed even an ounce of emotion had crumpled completely in-front of me. He looked so much like a lost little boy who had just found out that his world was ending that my heart went out to him. All I wanted to do was take away the pain that I had caused.

‘Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...’

‘No,’ he said suddenly, cutting me off and pulling his hands away from his face to reveal the despair etched onto his face, ‘don’t try and change it now. You were honest with me and that’s what I asked for.’

‘Yes, but you didn’t let me finish. I believe that someone evil, someone truly evil can never become good again. But I don’t think that that applies to you. I don’t think you are a bad person. I don’t think that you’re evil.’

‘You don’t,’ he said, looking up at me warily.

If he had asked me that question a year ago, even a few months ago, my answer would have been very different. But was Draco Malfoy evil? I had seen evil. I had looked it in the eye and seen its true devastating effects. I had seen the thirst for power, the disregard for life, the enjoyment of pain. But when I looked at him now, I knew that whatever I may have thought of him in the past, I didn’t feel that way anymore.

‘No, I don’t,’ I replied truthfully.

In the blink of an eye he became distressed once more, standing up so suddenly that I flinched away from him.

‘You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d done. If you knew everything that I’d done.’

‘I think that you were in a difficult situation. I think that you did the best that you could.’

‘Stop lying to me,’ he shouted, and I had to fight my urge to flinch away. ‘You know exactly who I am and what I’ve done and you of all people should know just how bad I am. You said that some things are too bad to come back from and I have done bad things, so many horrific things and I don’t know how to come back from them. I don’t know how to make it better.’

‘Draco, you are not bad. Good and bad, good and evil, isn’t quite as straightforward as that,’ I said, trying to reason with him. ‘It’s not that black and white. You can be a good person and still do stupid things, bad things, but as long as you know that it’s wrong and you feel remorse and guilt then that’s what stops you from becoming evil. You said so yourself, before, that you clearly regret the things that you did. You know that they were wrong.’

‘But I still did it. I was still a part of all that. I sat there in rooms with scum. I was breathing in that scum for a long time, listening to them and the vile things that they talked about. Things that they had done. People they had hurt. People that they planned to hurt. And I listened to that. Because it was a war.’ He turned to stare at me, breathing hard with the memories. ‘And so, I had to make them think that I was one of them. That I believed in everything that they were saying.’

I shivered at the look in his eyes. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s means I had to stand there and go along with it. But not just watch, I had to join in, and I had to look like I wanted to do it. Like I enjoyed it. That was my life for over a year, so what kind of person does that make me?’

As sickened as I was by his words, by the things he must have seen and done, I could also see the revulsion and self- loathing in his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him and for some strange reason, I ached to comfort him. ‘I think it makes you the kind of person who did what they had to do to survive.’

He made a scoffing noise again. ‘You say that, but you don’t know what I was party to.’

‘And I don’t need to.’ I shook my head. ‘Not unless you really want to tell me. If was a few years of your life, but it doesn’t have to define who you are. You can still be the person that you want to be. You just have to make the decision about who that person is.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

I gave him a shrug and with it a gentle smile. ‘Do you think I would still be sitting here if I didn’t.’

He nodded, seeming to accept my answer, and stared out the lake, the raging storm in his eyes now as quiet as the calm of the water in front of us.

We sat for a long time, in comfortable silence, just listening to the sounds of the gentle waves crashing against the nearby shore.

When a light drizzle started misting around us, Draco finally stood up. ‘We should probably head back.’

It took me a moment to realise that he was waiting for me. That he expected me to walk with him.

We fell into step beside one another, walking in the silence that seemed so natural between us. I surreptitiously peeked glances over at him, but he seemed entirely at ease, entirely comfortable with the situation.

‘I still don’t understand this you know. What this is,’ I said, gesturing between the two of us.

‘And you always have to understand everything, don’t you, Granger? Maybe the mystery will be good for you.’

‘Draco!’ I said in irritation.

Feeling his unwavering gaze, I stopped and looked over at him. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ve just never heard you say my name before.’

I flushed at the realisation of what I had just said. It seemed strangely intimate. ‘Well, I…’

‘How about friends?’

‘I’m sorry?’ I said, thrown by his statement.

‘Us,’ he indicated between us. ‘Friends?’

‘You want us to be,’ I hesitated over the word, ‘friends?’

‘Well at this point you know more about me than anyone else does. And believe it or not you’re probably the person I actually talk to the most. I can’t think of a better word, can you?’

‘Friends,’ I said, testing the word. It seemed altogether too intimate and yet somehow not intimate enough. I have a shrug of my shoulders, ‘I guess that works.’

‘So, friend,’ he smirked, ‘how will you spend your evening?’

‘I don’t know,’ I answered, trying not to smile at the strangeness of the situation. ‘Probably listen to the others tell me all about Hogsmeade and all the fun they’ve had.’

‘Do you wish you’d been able to go?’

‘Not really. Harry and Ginny are just a sickeningly cute couple and Ron’s just…’ I shrugged.

His gaze turned thoughtful. ‘So, you and Weasley are...’

‘Ron and I, what?’

‘You’re together,’ he said, not in question, but as a statement. He glanced slightly in my direction again, before diverting his gaze again.

‘Why are you asking?’

‘I was just making conversation,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was all the same to him.

‘Then, no.’

‘No, what?’he said, his eyes sliding to mine in question.

‘No, we’re not together. He’s going out with Lavender Brown. Or he was until yesterday.’

‘Hmm, well that makes more sense,’ he mused and my head whipped around at his tone.

‘Meaning what?’

He gave that careless shrug again. ‘Just that Weasley and Lavender are better suited to each other than you and him.’

‘In what way?’ I asked, intrigued.

‘Well, they’re both complete idiots. You’re far too smart to go out with an idiot like Ron Weasley. Although you did go out with McLaggen so I’ve got to say, you don’t seem to have the best taste in men.’

‘Clearly,’ I said, giving a huff of unamused laughter. ‘Although for the record I was never actually going out with Cormac, although getting him to understand that was easier said than done. As you well know,’ I said giving him a pointed look which I immediately regretted as his face immediately hardened with anger at the memory.

‘Yes, well,’ he said after a moment of silence, his face impassive once more, ‘maybe next time you’ll need to aim a little higher,’ he said, his eyes displaying just a trace of humour.

‘Next time?’ I asked on a derisive laugh. ‘Trust me, there won’t be a next time.’

With a frown he asked,’ What do you mean?’

‘I’m sworn off relationships,’ I proclaimed with a laugh. ‘Nothing good ever comes from them. Besides I’ve known everyone here for nearly eight years. I think if something was going to happen by now, don’t you think?’

He stared at me intently again, but he turned away without answering my question and we once again fell into silence.

  
As we neared the castle grounds, I became aware of students milling about in the distance, starting to arrive back from Hogsmeade. Before we had been walking shoulder to shoulder, but as the castle became closer, I found myself starting to edge away from him, creating some distance.

As we approached the courtyard, we got so close that if anyone happened to look, they would see me walking side by side with Draco Malfoy. I started to get uneasy at the thought.

‘You alright?’ Draco asked, noting my sudden tension.

‘Mhmm. I’m fine,’ I said, but my voice betrayed me, coming out all squeaky and as he stared at me, I was sure he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He gave a bitter smile. ‘Don’t worry I get it.’ He looked over my shoulder at the crowds of people who were starting to arrive back in the courtyard. ‘We wouldn’t want anyone to see Hermione Granger with a Slytherin, ex death eater.’

‘No, that’s not what I- ‘

‘See you around, friend.’

He turned around and walked away from me. ‘Draco, wait.’ I took a step after him when I heard my name being called from behind me. I turned around to find Harry and Ginny walking towards me, laden with shopping bags. Ron wasn’t with them I noted. I gave a sharp glance behind me, but Draco was already gone. As glad I was that the others hadn’t seen us together, I did feel guilty for what had just happened. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed, it was just that I knew telling the others that I had been spending time with Draco Malfoy would cause an inevitable argument. And besides, what was to say he wouldn’t shut me out again when the mood suited him? It was better not to tell them anything until I knew what there was to tell.

‘Hey, Hermione,’ Harry said, as they reached me. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Nothing. I just went for a walk.’ I looked behind me again, trying to see where Draco had disappeared to, but there was no sign of him.

‘Are you alright, Hermione?’ Ginny asked.

‘Yep, I’m fine,’ I said turning back around and trying to put Draco Malfoy out of my mind. ‘How was Hogsmeade?’ I deflected.

‘Yeah, it was good to be out of the place, instead of being cooped up,’ Harry said, before quickly adding, ‘No offense.’

I shook my head. ‘None taken.’

‘The place is nearly back to normal,’ Ginny added. ‘A couple of shops are still empty and Gladrag’s still hasn’t opened back up, but there’s a new Quidditch shop, which is amazing.’

‘Great. Just what we need,’ I said rolling my eyes.

‘So what did you get up to? Anything interesting happen?’ Ginny asked.

‘Nope nothing,’ I lied, ‘nothing interesting at all.’


	16. Chapter 16 - Competitions

Chapter 16 - Competitions

Friends.

The word felt strange to say. Especially when put in the same sentence as Draco Malfoy. I spent the entire weekend thinking about what I had done. What I had somehow agreed to. All the time wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into.

I was distracted again. Thinking about him. Thinking about our conversation. About how we had left things. But none of the others seemed to notice. Harry and Ginny were so wrapped up in each other and Ron was strangely quiet most of Sunday. I figured he was still annoyed at me for blowing him off the day before, so I buried myself in my homework and kept my distance.

I was still distracted on Monday morning as the four of us left the great hall ready to head to class. Distracted enough not to notice the hushed conversation and meaningful glances between my three friends.

If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed how Ron didn’t eat much for breakfast or how tense he looked, nervous even, but I didn’t. If I had noticed it, then I could have been prepared, I could have tried to stop it, but I didn’t and so what happened next caught me totally off guard.

We had just left the great hall when I finally tuned into the strange vibes. I was just about to ask what was going on, when Ron put his hand on my arm and gently pulled me a stop. Harry and Ginny kept going. I noticed Harry give Ron a quick encouraging nod as Ginny shot me an excited grin before they disappeared through the door that led to the dungeons.

‘Ron, what is going on?’ I asked warily.

‘Hermione, I need to talk to you,’ Ron said, pulling me over to the side of the entrance hall.

He looked nervous, red flushing up his neck and high onto his cheeks. I hadn’t seen Ron like this in a long time and certainly not with me. I was instantly on edge, worried at what was to come.

'Ron,' I asked hesitantly, feeling very much like I was missing something, 'what is going…'

'Hermione, I need to say this, and I need to say this now,' Ron interrupted suddenly, stepping towards me with an intensity in his eyes that I had never seen before. 'It's something that I should have said ages ago, but I don't know,’- he reached up to rub at the back of his neck- ‘I guess I was scared before or something, but I'm not anymore.'

'Ron, what is going on?' My heart had started a strange beat in my chest, instantly aware that something was coming that I wasn’t going to like.

'I think I like you,' he blurted out. 'I've always liked you. I just didn't know how to say it before.'

In that moment it seemed as if the world had stopped moving. Ron's cheeks flushed pink and he seemed unable to look at me. I wanted so much to look anywhere else but in Ron's eyes, but I seemed unable to tear my wide- eyed gaze away.

‘You like me,' I repeated slowly after a long silence from both of us, not quite able to believe the words that I was saying. This whole moment just seemed far too surreal. How long had I waited to hear those words? Two years, three years, four years even. Hell, I would have been happy if I he had uttered those words only two months ago. But everything had changed

'Yes. I…’ he began awkwardly, trying to find the words. ‘I think I might be in lo...'

‘Don’t!’ I demanded, cutting him off, not able to hear him say those words. Knowing that he didn’t mean them abs knowing that once he said them, they couldn’t be taken back. ‘Ron, what are you doing? What about Lavender?’ I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand what he was doing. He had ignored me all summer. He had barely spoken to me in months. He had been going out with someone else up until a few days ago. So how could he possibly think that he was anywhere close to having those feelings for me?

‘I ended it with her. I feel nothing for her.’ He reached up and scooped up my hands in his, tugging me close to him. ‘Not since I realised I wanted to be with you instead.’

I pulled my hands away and out of his grasp and crossed my arms in front of me, my voice hard and flat as I answered. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘that came out wrong.’

‘Really,’ I asked coldly. ‘Because it sounded spot on to me. You kissed me. Ignored me all summer. Moved on to Lavender and then deliberately rubbed my nose in the fact that you were with someone else and then you got, what, bored, and so now you’ve moved back to me and expect me to just be ready and willing to jump back into your arms.’

Ron visibly flinched and I was glad to see that he at least had the decency to look ashamed.

'No, that’s not what happened. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same and so I don't know,' he shrugged, 'I guess I tried to prove to myself that I didn't need you and then I met up with Lavender again and she was pretty messed up after what happened with Greyback and she needed me, and I guess I needed someone too. I needed to forget about everything that had happened and with her it was just easy I guess.'

I narrowed my eyes, every word of his explanation, only increasing my hurt. 'She needed you and you were there. What a hero.' I said, unable to keep the condescension out of my voice.

Ron looked at me startled, the conversation clearly not going the way he had hoped.

'You managed to be there for her, but what about me?' I cried out, unable to keep the hurt inside. ‘I needed you and you ignored me. You didn't talk to me all summer. You made me feel like I’d done something wrong.’ I wrapped my arms around my middle, turning away because I feel the first sting of tears. ‘You made me think that you didn't care.'

'Of course, I care, Hermione.’ He stepped around me, so that he was facing me again. He reached for my hand, but I tugged it back and out his reach. ‘I just told you, I want to be with you.’

Immediately I stepped back from him, not quite sure what to say, sure that somehow Ron couldn’t possibly be serious. How could he possibly be after everything that had happened?

'Say something,' Ron implored, exasperated by my silence.

I sighed deeply, summing up all of my courage for what I was about to do. Inside I felt the crushing weight of disappointment as I knew it was too late for us. Perhaps if things had been different, if Ron or I had been more honest with each other then things might have been different. I loved him, but I wasn't in love with him. His confession came too late. We'd missed our chance.

'Ron, please don’t do this. You are my best friend.’

‘But you loved me. I know you did.’

‘I did once. But too much happened between us. Too much has changed.’

'Is there someone else?' Ron questioned, confusion on his face.

'No, of course not,' I answered quickly, although a certain person did pop into my mind, but I quickly pushed those thoughts away. 'I just think that we've both changed. I think… I think we just missed our chance.'

'You don't love me. You don't want to be with me,' Ron said with a trace of anger infiltrating into his voice. 'I've just put my heart on my sleeve for you and it's still not good enough for you.'

‘Are you kidding me? Did you think that this is all it would take? A few simple words before potions class, in the entrance hall of all places, and I would be yours? That I would just fall into your arms.’ I could feel my face twisting with disdain, anger and above all, disappointment. ‘I mean can you even hear yourself? You've just told me that you liked me. That you’ve been trying not to like me. That you went out with somebody else just so you could prove that you didn’t need to be with me, to prove that you didn’t even want to be with me.’ I swept my arms out to the side. ‘Is that the grand romantic gesture that is meant to sweep me off my feet after months of nothing but silence?’

Ron looked back at me stunned, clearly not believing quite how the conversation had gone so wrong. 'So, you don't want to be with me?' he repeated, with an expression on his face that tempered my anger, reminding me that Ron was still my friend, and this was hurting him. It would have been so easy to turn around and say that I loved him too, but I knew that I couldn't. I knew that I would be lying and in the end that would just cause more heartache.

'Ron, you’re my friend.' I reached out to touch him arm, 'I don’t want to hurt you, but I just want us to be friends like we used to be. I need you as my friend,' I pleaded.

Ron stayed silent for a moment, looking deep in thought, hurt etched on each and every one of his features. Eventually he seemed to compose himself, taking a deep breath and standing up straighter to face me.

'Hermione, you will always be my friend. I know I've hurt you, but you just said that you loved me once and I promise that you will again one day,’ he said confidently with not a hint of doubt. ‘Some day you will realise that. Some day we will be together.' He looked deep into my eyes, before he turned and walked away from me, leaving me stunned in his wake.

As I watched him walk down the corridor, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made the right choice. If I had made a mistake. How long had I wanted this? How long had I wanted to hear those words? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine being with Ron, loving Ron. It would be comfortable. It was be easy. He would annoy me at times by being immature but then he would be sweet and apologise. It would be safe. Was that what I wanted?

It didn’t take me long to come to an answer. No. It would never be enough. It might be cheesy, but I had spent my life reading books with epic romance stories. I wanted fireworks, I wanted butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to feel special. Ron was the safe choice and at nineteen I was not prepared to resign myself to become Mrs Weasley the second. However hard it may be, I knew that I had made the right choice. Realising that I still had class to get to, I picked my bag off the floor and hurried down the corridor, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and from my heart. I had finally let Ron go.  
  


I was the last person to walk into the potions class and Professor Haven was already standing at the front of the class ready to start. Her narrowed eyes followed me the entire way to my seat and stayed on me as I sat down in my stool. She continued to watch with her steely gaze as I pulled my things out of my bag. But of course, it was one of those situations where you know you're being watched, and you know you have to hurry and so you end up fumbling about and taking even longer. Even once I had fetched by books, parchment and quill from my bag, she continued to watch me for a moment longer, disapproval and annoyance written on each and every one of her features, before she tore her gaze from me to face the rest of the class, putting a smile on her face as she began the lesson.

'So now that we are all here,' she said giving a pointed look in my direction, 'can anyone tell me the main ingredients in a dreamless sleep potion?'

I of course knew the answer and put my hand immediately into the air, thinking that perhaps answering a question might help to get me back into her good books. However, I saw quite clearly that her eyes flicked in my direction, seeing my raised hand, before scanning around the rest of the class, her smile fading as she realised no one else was going to answer. Seemingly reluctant, she turned towards me, all pretence of a smile now gone. The phrase 'if looks could kill' sprung to mind and I withered under her stare, my hand dropping a good foot from its place in the air.

'Well, Miss Granger?' Her voice leeched irritation.

'Em,' I managed to say, my mind going completely blank, under the weight of her stare. She let out a loud tut.

'Does somebody who actually knows the answer want to hazard a guess?' She looked around the class, as everyone else lowered their eyes and ducked their heads even further.

'It is very similar to an ordinary sleeping draught, containing lavender, flobberworm mucus and valerian sprigs, but it also contains Lethe River Water and crushed mistletoe berries,' came a voice from directly beside me.

I couldn't help but to give a quick glance to the side, trying not to look too annoyed that Malfoy had just stolen my answer. I met his eye, but he just gave an almost imperceptible shrug before looking back to the front of the class.

'Excellent, Mr Malfoy. Ten house points for Slytherin,' she said giving him an approving nod and dare I say it, nearly a smile. Apparently, her hatred was reserved purely for me.

'Now, I suggest that the rest of you get your books out and read over the potion. You have forty-five minutes to brew it correctly, which you will be doing individually. You may begin.'

The sound of chairs scraping backwards immediately filled the room as people began to get their ingredients. I opened my book to the correct page, wanting to read over the instructions thoroughly before I started.

'Doesn't seem like she likes you much, does it?' came the voice to my right. I reluctantly turned to face him, arching a single eyebrow at the amusement written across his features.

'Doesn't it?' I shrugged, as if it didn’t bother me in the slightest. ‘What on earth gave you that impression?' Draco simply chuckled as he started on his potion, igniting the fire underneath his cauldron with a flick of his wand.

'Look, don't take it personally. She really doesn't like me much either.'

'Yeah, it really looked like she despised you. Those extra house points,’ I gave him a mock sympathetic glance, ‘talk about harsh.’

I turned back to reading my textbook, hoping to leave the conversation there, but when he just continued to laugh, I couldn't help but continue. 'I just don't get it. I mean we both blew up her classroom, not just me.'

'True, although technically you did start it,' Malfoy said, earning himself, a glare of his own. ‘And I also didn't turn up late to class,' he added with a smirk.

'I was hardly late. Maybe like a minute, but it's not like I was the only one and you don't see her scowling at any of them.'

'Yes, Weasley was late too.’ He flicked his eyes to me. ‘But then since he looked like he was about to cry when he walked in, she probably decided to go easy on him.'

'He was crying?' I asked in concern, turning around to try and find Ron in the classroom, but he was facing away from me, so I couldn't tell if what Malfoy had said was true.

'What trouble in paradise?' he scoffed, as he followed my gaze.

'Oh, shut up,' I snapped back beginning to feel guilty. Had Ron really been crying? He had seemed okay when he had left me.

'You know it may just be me,' Draco said, tilting his head to one side, 'but you're not really supposed to make your boyfriend cry, although it doesn't surprise me that he would act like the girl in your relationship.'

'How many times do I have to tell you that he is not my boyfriend?' I punctuated each of the last words, partly to make my point and partly in annoyance. That topic of conversation was not up for discussion today. Or any day.

'You might want to tell him that,' he replied, the usual smirk in place.

I slammed my textbook closed in frustration and was about to go and get the ingredients for making my own potion, when Professor Haven came and stood beside me, effectively blocking my way out.

'Very good, Mr Malfoy, that is exactly the perfect shade of lilac. Have another five points for Slytherin. You clearly have a knack for potions.'

'Thank you, Professor.' He gave her one his most winning smiles and I saw her visibly melt at his charm. 'I've had some good teachers.'

It was all I could do to stop myself from rolling in my eyes. Damn suck up.

‘As for you, Miss Granger. She turned around, addressing me. I looked up, trying to keep my face as straight as possible. I really hoped she hadn't seen me rolling my eyes at Draco. ‘Are you planning on beginning your potion sometime today? You only have forty minutes left and I must say you have some stiff competition.’ She looked admiringly back into Draco's cauldron.

I watched her walk away, breathing hard through my nose. I was surprised I wasn’t breathing fire. I did what she wanted, I followed her instructions and still I got into trouble for it. It was only when I heard a chuckling beside me that was becoming all too familiar that I turned back to my potion, ignoring looking at the blonde wizard beside me. 'Didn't have you down as a suck up, especially not to her.'

He simply shrugged unabashed. 'It never hurts to have people on your side, Granger and besides, I don't need to suck up to her, I am the best in the class at potions after all.'

'Excuse me.’ I folded my arms in indignation. I didn't mean to be big headed, but it wasn’t lost on me that I consistently had the best grades in the year.

'What? Did you think you were the best?' Malfoy replied with an amused look on his face.

'No,' I said, turning around to face him directly, 'I know that I'm the best.'

'Hah, sorry to burst your bubble,' he smirked as he crossed his arms firmly across his chest, leaning casually back against the table, 'but with the exception of first year, I have beat you in every potions exam and assignment that we have ever sat.'

'Oh, really,' My voice may have been disbelieving, but inside I wasn't as confident. Had he beaten me? I tried to think back. 'Not in sixth year you didn't' I said triumphantly.

He shrugged, conceding. 'Okay fine, but I didn't actually sit exams in sixth year, but apart from that I've been on top,' he said smugly.

I tried to think if he really had been any good at potions. How could I not have noticed that he had beaten me. All I could think about what Snape praising him for everything. He was the teacher's pet after all. 'Well, that's only because you were Snape's favourite,' I replied, well aware that I was sounding petty and looking pretty desperate.

'Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,' he said laughing. 'Do you really think that he could have gotten away with boosting my grade for five years straight? Besides someone always cross- examines. Especially for OWL's and NEWT's.'

'You are not better at potions that me,’ I replied crossly. I leaned into him, a determined look on my face. ‘And I will prove it.'

'Oh yeah, how?' he asked, leaning forward too, curiosity evident in his face.

'Fine, today, here and now,' I challenged. 'We'll see who makes the best potion,' I said feeling immensely confident.

'If you're sure,' he said lightly, with his eyebrow raised, clearly enjoying the challenge. ‘Just remember, I've got a head start.’

I scoffed. ‘Like that will matter.’

‘Fine then. Game on.'

I had to win. I was determined to win. As much as I loved a challenge, this time I had my pride at stake. I would prove that I was the best at potions. Harry may have stolen my crown the year before; something which I still held a slight grudge about (he was cheating after all) but I would be damned if I would let Malfoy take it from me this year. I couldn't help but eye up the competition, taking a few sneaky glances inside his cauldron. Professor Haven hadn't been exaggerating when she said that his potion was perfect. It was the absolute perfect colour, the exact colour of lavender but with a shimmery quality on the surface. The smell that wafted over in my direction was intoxicating and as the soft smell of lavender hit my nostrils, I felt the soothing waves of drowsiness wash over me. Instantly I snapped myself out of, forcing myself to concentrate. Damn that boy was good, but I was going to be better.

I looked back at my own potion, spurred on with a determination to be just as good. My potion was just changing from a midnight blue to deep purple, when instead of continuing to lighten to the current colour of Malfoy’s, it went in the opposite direction and started to get darker. I continued to stir and stir desperately but all that happened was that the potion kept getting darker and darker until it was nearly an inky black. Frantically I checked my textbook again to see if I had made a mistake. Add three sprigs of lavender to the cauldron and stir turn three times to the left, check. Add five crushed valerian sprigs and turn up the heat. Yep, I had done that. Add the crushed mistletoe berries and stir ten and a half time to the right. Yes, I had done all that, so what the hell was the problem. As I looked frantically around for inspiration, I stopped mid movement noticing Malfoy working innocently on his potion. Too innocently. In normal circumstances he would have been the first to comment that my potion had gone wrong, but in the current situation it should have been a certainty. The fact that he had said nothing was just too suspicious.

'What did you do?' I asked him in warily, barely keeping my anger in check.

'I have no idea what you're talking about.’ He had an innocent expression that I would have bought if for one, I hadn't known that it was Malfoy and two, he hadn't given himself away with an almost imperceptible smirk as he turned away from me.

I turned back to my potion and almost groaned in frustration as I noticed that the flame beneath my cauldron had gone out. Or been put out. Fine, if that's the way he wanted to play it, two could play at that game.

Fixing my potion and finally reaching the pale lilac colour I had been aiming for, inspiration struck and I knew what I had to do. Now all I had to do was wait for my opportunity. Thank god I was good at multi- tasking.

As I was stirring my potion, my moment finally came. Trying not to be noticed, I collected a few sprigs of nightshade from my supplies and ground them into a fine dust. Then Draco turned around briefly, for little more than a split second to fetch his knife and so I reached over and added some night shade into the pestle that he was using to crush his remaining lavender sprigs.

I returned to my own potion, trying to look as innocent as possible, but I could barely contain the grin that was forcing its way from my lips as I watched him from the corner of my eye adding the finely ground powder into his cauldron turning the whole mixture jet black.

'What the…'Malfoy exclaimed as soon as he saw his potion, looking immediately both panic stricken and confused.

'Oh dear,' I said leaning over his shoulder to get a better look into the cauldron, trying my hardest to feign concern and not let my delight show too much. 'It looks like you're not so great at potions after all.'

'This was you wasn't it,' he asked whipping around, suspicion and fury evident in his face.

'I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,' I said mimicking his tone from earlier, not even bothering to try and mask the smirk that appeared on my lips.

Malfoy however did not waste any time in exacting his revenge, nor did he even try to be subtle about it. Apparently, we were past that.

'Oops,' he said, as he accidentally, but totally on purpose, bumped into me at the exact point I was adding the flobberworm mucus. The entire contents of the jar hit the liquid with a giant splash, bobbing about at the top for a moment before sinking slowly to the bottom. I turned to him my face full of fury, as my potion turned a sickly yellow colour and started bubbling furiously. Malfoy just gave me his usual smug expression and shrugged shoulders before turning back to his own potion, that he had somehow managed return to purple.

Quickly fixing my own potion with vast amounts of lavender, so that if not quite the perfect shade of lilac, it was at least an acceptable one, I came up with my plan. Was it childish? Yes. Was it stupid? Yes. Was I still going to do it? Absolutely! Malfoy would not beat me. Scooping up a handful of crushed lavender, I turned to face Malfoy and called his name. Just as he turned around to face me, I let out an almighty, completely fake sneeze, sending the lavender blowing all over his face.

He just blinked a couple of time, as the dust settled onto his hair and his robes, covering him in fine layer of lilac dust. 'Oh sorry,' I said, watching as his eyelids started to droop and he struggled to stay focused, shaking his head repeatedly to the side to keep himself awake. Barely even paying attention to me, he turned back to his potion swaying slightly, as he did, grabbing onto the bench for support. I couldn't help but giggle, when he let out a huge yawn that had over the half class turn and stare in his direction. I don't think any of them had ever seen a Malfoy behaving in any way that was less than perfect.

We continued to work for the last ten minutes, me trying to fix my flobberworm mess and Draco fighting to stay awake. It was quite funny seeing his head bobbing about as he tried to stay awake. Once or twice, he had even stopped mid movement as his head lolled to the side only to jerk back up and continue with what he had been doing.

When Professor Haven eventually called on us to stop and sit in our seats, Draco seemed to have finally woken up somewhat as he sat and stared at me grumpily.

'Was that really necessary?' Draco asked me under his breath, through clenched teeth.

'Was what really necessary?' I replied, barely even turning around to look at him, watching as Professor Haven walked around the class, checking everybody's potions individually.

'Sending me to sleep in the middle of class?' he hissed in reply.

'Oh don't start getting judgemental. Don't start playing dirty if you aren't prepared for the consequences.'

Draco seemed ready to retort, opening his mouth to reply, but closing it promptly once Professor Haven came to our table, the last one in the class.

'Well, it seems that most of you have managed to make a successful dreamless sleep potion,' Professor Haven announced. ‘But I must say that one stood out from the rest.

I sat up straighter, eager to hear who it was, aware that Draco was mimicking my actions.

'Well done…,' she began, before pausing dramatically as I leaned forward in my chair in anticipation, '…Mr Boot. Twenty house points to Ravenclaw.'

I slumped back in my seat and looked to Draco shocked that neither of us had won and saw that his face mirrored mine. At the exact same moment, we burst into laughter. I guess after all our sabotage, neither of us had really had stood a chance.

'Call it a draw?' Draco said.

'A draw,' I agreed. I could live with that. 'And I am sorry for sending you to sleep in class,' I said in genuine apology.

'I would apologise for starting it, but I'd be lying,’ he shrugged, that lip quirking up again. ‘I'm a Slytherin after all.’ He picked up his bag. ‘See you, Granger.’

I spun around in my seat, watching him as he walked out of the classroom, my own lips quirking up into a smile. Until my vision was filled with an irate red head marching towards me.

‘What the hell just happened?’

‘Nothing. It was nothing. Malfoy and I were just- ‘

‘Malfoy?’ Ginny looked confused. ‘I meant with Ron. What happened?’

‘Oh.’ I felt instantly relieved and also guilty. I had completely forgotten all about Ron. I turned around to look but he was gone. As was Harry.

‘You turned him down? But why? You’ve liked him for ages.’

‘Ginny,’ I sighed, ‘I can’t talk about this with you. He’s your brother and you love him. But he’s hurt me and I just can’t get over that.’

‘Because of Lavender?’

‘That’s part of it,’ I admitted, not wanting to admit the whole truth of all that had passed between Ron and I. Of his rejection. Of just how much it had hurt me. ‘But Ginny, honestly, it’s better this way. Ron and I are better as friends.’

‘He’s my brother, Hermione. I know he’s not perfect but I don’t like to see him hurting. Especially not now. Can’t you give him another chance.’

‘Ginny,’ I sighed heavily. I would do anything for friends. Anything to make them happy, but I couldn’t give her this. My heart had been bruised and battered in the last few months and it wouldn’t take another blow. I had to start protecting it. ‘Please don’t get involved. If you don’t want either of us to get hurt any more then please you have to let it go.’

‘I don’t get it. You’ve liked Ron for years.’ Her face changed as she regarded me with both disappointment and frustration. ‘Is there someone else?’

Her brother had asked me that very same question and once again the same face popped unbidden into my mind.

‘Of course not,’ I lied, keeping my face carefully blank. ‘Who else could there be?

Ginny looked at me, a question in her eyes at whatever she saw in my face. I had to fight to keep myself from twitching under her scrutiny. It was only when she looked away that I allowed myself to relax, but I instantly stiffened again at her parting words. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Hermione, I really do.’

I sighed as I followed her out of the room. So did I.


	17. Chapter 17 - Touch

Chapter 17 – Touch

Before I came back to Hogwarts, I had thought that life would get back to normal. That as long as I had my friends around me, as long as we were together then everything would be fine.

But things weren’t fine. If anything, things were more complicated now than they had ever been. Ron didn’t ignore me. He didn’t shut me out. It would have been better if he had. I could have blamed him if he had, been angry with him even. Instead, it was me who felt guilty, because although he spoke to me, it was always with a wounded look in his eyes. A look that hit me like a fist to my gut, every single time.

I knew that I had hurt his feelings. I could see it plain as day in front of me. Yet I still didn’t understand. I didn’t trust his words, because only the week before, he had been with someone else. Only a month before he had been ignoring me. I knew that I loved Ron, but I knew that I wasn’t in love with Ron. Not anymore. And above all I knew that I couldn’t change how I felt, no matter the hurt that it was causing.

I knew that Harry and Ginny were disappointed. It would have made life so much easier for the four of us to be together. Two happy couples. As nice as that idea was, as much as I may have dreamed for that once, I realised that I didn’t want nice. I didn’t want to settle for something easy. After a brief respite, things were once again awkward between us all. Harry and Ginny were trying to be supportive, but they didn’t know quite who they should be supporting. Since it was technically me who had broken Ron’s heart, me who had hurt him, I felt it was best for everyone if I made myself scarce and so I spent the next two evenings studying in the library and didn’t linger at dinner.

The common room or dormitory wasn’t much better as Lavender was also being particularly frosty to me, although I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like I was the one who had done anything wrong.

Which was why I was so relieved when the time came for my weekend detention. It was a good distraction and gave me a good reason to be away from the others. I was so relieved to get away that I even went to the library early and started cataloguing the remaining books in the fiction section. We were nearly finished, having continued working through most of the section during our mid-week detention. We didn’t talk much, but once again it was a comfortable silence.

I was sitting on the floor surrounded by a pile of books however they were not the books that I was meant to be cataloguing. You see the problem with putting a book lover in a library is that they will inevitably become distracted. With Draco alongside me, I was kept focused and on task. Left to my own devices in the fiction section was another matter. I had started with the intention of cataloguing the books, but as I skimmed through the shelves, my eyes got caught time and time again by books I hadn’t read but wanted to and books that I had read and wanted to read again. I had been looking for ‘Fire and Shadow’, the book that I had told Draco about the week before, but somebody had already checked it out. As it was, I already had a pile of eight or nine books that with the amount of homework I had for my seven NEWT subjects I had little chance of getting to read any time soon.

I was debating with the books, trying to decide which one I should take and which ones I would have to put back to read at another time, when ‘Fire and Shadow’ appeared in front of me, as if I had summoned it with my mind. My eyes trailed up the book cover, past the hand that was holding it, up the arm and eventually to the face peering down at me.

‘You might want to put that back,’ Draco said, a smile in his eyes. Then as his eyes drifted over the mess I had made, he shook his head and added, ‘Or maybe not. You know we’re supposed to be tidying the library, not making it worse.’

Ignoring his words, I reached up and took the book from his proffered hand. I looked up at him in surprise. ‘Did you… I mean did you read it?’

He shrugged off his bag and sat it down on the nearby table. ‘Yep.’

‘Well?’ I asked, looking up at him, desperate to know what he thought. ‘What did you think?’

‘I suppose it wasn’t all bad.’

‘Not all bad? Are you kidding? Was the ending not just heart-breaking? Did you cry?’

He stared down at me in muted horror, as if the mere suggestion offended his masculinity. ‘No, Granger, I did not cry.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘But you did like it?’

He stared at me for a long moment and I felt myself start to get nervous. For some reason it mattered to me what he thought of one of my favourite books. For some reason I wanted him to like it. ‘Yes,’ he gave a beleaguered, yet amused sigh. ‘I liked it.’

I couldn’t help but smile up at him. ‘I knew you would.’ When I caught the look on his face and realised what I had just said, I added, ‘I mean how could anyone not like it.’

Our eyes connected again, until I forced myself to pull away, breaking the moment. ‘Anyway, we’d better get started before Madame Pince comes and adds on even more detentions.’

I started to struggle to my feet when a hand appeared in front of me. I paused mid- movement and surveyed his outstretched hand for a long moment, hesitating, but seeing his face and eyes so sincere, I reached up to clasp his hand. As soon as my fingers slid into his palm, the hair on my arms rose.

I’d thought that spark that people apparently felt when they touched someone was a myth. Just some made up thing that authors would put into books to describe that moment where two characters connect, but it was there. I felt it.

As he pulled me to my feet, our eyes collided and heat rushed up my arm, my body shivering as tingles ran over my entire body, settling down low in my stomach. All I could see was Draco, all I could feel was Draco’s hand in mine, his body standing close to me.

Draco’s hand tightened around mine, his silver eyes darkened, and what I saw in his eyes made my breath stutter, drawing his attention to my mouth. A shiver rippled down my spine as he moved closer to me and I felt his breath on my skin. My chest rose and fell, and I lost control of my breathing- the air between us felt much too thick. Draco leaned down, closing the space between our lips.

I waited, breathless with anticipation-

‘There you are!’ came a voice from behind us.

I pulled away, slamming back against the hard wood of the bookcase behind me. The moment was ruined, whatever was between us, gone. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenching with what I thought was annoyance. He took a few seconds to gather himself. When he opened his eyes, the annoyance was gone, along with every other emotion, his face the blank mask that I had seen so often and yet now looked strangely unfamiliar on his face to the point that I flinched away.

Pansy Parkinson was standing at the end the aisle, a speculative look on her face. But whatever it was she saw, I saw her quickly dismiss it. I mean why wouldn’t she? I wasn’t even sure that I believed it myself.

‘What is it, Pansy?’ Draco growled, giving her a look that would have quelled many people, but Pansy just tilted her head to the side, a flirtatious smile on her lips.

‘You’ve been difficult to track down, Draco,’ she pouted. ‘I’ve had to resort to pinning you down in the library.’

‘What do you want, Pansy?’ he asked again, looking completely unaffected.

I moved to the other end of the aisle as she moved further into it. ‘I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me.’

‘I’ve been busy.’

‘I know.’ She placed her hand onto his chest. ‘You’ve had quidditch and all of these detentions.’ She shot me an accusatory glare abs I quickly turned away, pretending that I hadn’t been staring. ‘I feel like I hardly see you anymore.’

‘You see me every day,’ he relied.

‘I know,’ she whined, ‘but not like before. I miss you.’

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her from trailing one perfectly manicured finger down his front. ‘Pansy,’ he warned in a low voice.

‘Come on, Drakie-Kins…’

I honestly couldn’t have kept it in if I tried, but there was no disguising the loud snort that came out of my nose. I felt the instant tension and I had to bite my lip to keep my smile at bay as I turned around to face them.

Both of them were staring at me, Draco, glaring, although I wasn’t sure if it because I had interrupted, or because I heard Pansy’s nickname for him.

Pansy looked over to me and then to Draco, before settling back on me, her eyes narrowed. ‘Granger, can’t you just fuck off and give us some privacy?’

My eyes widened at her rudeness and for some reason, I looked over to Draco, but if I was expecting him to contradict her I was to be disappointed. ‘Sorry,’ I shrugged, feeling anything but. ‘It’s a detention. I can’t leave.’

‘And that’s you all over,’ she sneered, her sugary tone turned sour. ‘Isn’t it, Granger. The goody two shoes who always follows the rules. Don’t you think it’s a bit pathetic at your age?’

I had to force myself not to react. You’d think that hearing the same insult so many times since childhood would diminish the impact. But it didn’t and what was worse, was the fact that Draco knew it. I had told him how much those words hurt me, how I had been hearing them my entire life even before I had come to Hogwarts. He had apologised for his part in it, said he was sorry for treating me the way that he had. Yet he was just standing there, watching it all happen.

Trying to remain unaffected, I turned back to the books and started straightening the books on that shelf. ‘If you have a problem with me being here then take it up with McGonagall.’

‘Ugh, I don’t know how you can stand to be around it, Draco.’

He shrugged. ‘McGonagall’s decision, not mine.’

I stared at him and I knew that the hurt and confusion I felt was pouring out of my eyes. How many times had he come to me? How many times had he begun a conversation with me? He had wanted to be my friend. How much of it all had been a lie?

I gritted my teeth and turned back to the books, trying to still the shaking of my hand with a deep breath.

‘One of her stupid ideas to promote collaboration,’ Pansy added. ‘Like any self respecting Slytherin would degrade themselves with such company.’ Her eyes slid over me, her lip twisted in disgust. ‘What did she think that we’d be friends with any of them?’

At the word ‘friends’ I stiffened and my eyes immediately shot to Draco’s, but his were expressionless. I held his gaze, asking the question ‘Is that really what you think?’, but his eyes repeated Pansy’s and raked over me before he turned to Pansy, his lip curled upwards into a smirk of agreement.

I flinched backwards at the cruelty in his gaze, tying to stop the hurt from showing on my face, but knowing deep down that it was plain for all to see. I had known it would come to this. Deep down I knew that trusting Draco Malfoy, opening myself to him, would only ever lead to this. I was a fool for thinking otherwise. Upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and the mortification staining my cheeks red, Pansy let out a high, derisive laugh that grated like nails on a chalk board.

I knew I had to leave before I could embarrass myself even further by doing something even worse like crying and so I snatched my bag, from the floor. I turned around and gave them both a look that could leave them both in no doubt exactly what I thought of them.

‘You two deserve each other.’

I brushed past Pansy in my bid to escape the aisle, and she flinched back and screeched, ‘Don’t touch me, mudblood.’

When I knew they could no longer see me, it didn’t matter that my eyes had filled with tears. I rushed my way through to the front of the library, not stopping as Madam Pince called out to me to come back. But the tears had started to fall and I had already made a fool of myself. I wasn’t going to do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank your to everyone who has commented, added kudos or bookmarked. It means a lot.


	18. Chapter 18 - Actions

Chapter 18- Actions

Hogwarts was a huge castle. A castle with lots of winding corridors, empty classrooms, secret passageways and hidden alcoves. It was perfect for hiding in. Which was exactly what I was doing. Hiding. There was no other way to describe it. I couldn’t go back to the common room. Not when I had run out of my detention early. That would lead to too many questions. Besides one look at my face and my friends would be able to see that something had happened, and I wasn’t ready to admit how much of an idiot I had been.

But that is exactly what I had been. An idiot.

Had I really been so lonely, so desperate that I had jumped at the chance to believe that he had changed? To believe that we could be friends. All so I wouldn’t feel quite so alone.

Apparently, I had been because he had fooled me. He hadn’t changed at all.

In my heart I should have known better than to trust a Malfoy. I should have known better than to think that he would want to be friends with someone like me. For a moment I had believed it. I had been believed every word. I had felt sorry for him. I had told him all of the secrets that I hadn’t even told my closest friends. But what I couldn’t figure out, what I couldn’t fathom, was the purpose of it all. Was it all just some sick twisted game to him? Was he to gain my trust so he could then laugh about it with his cronies in the Slytherin common room? My stomach twisted with mortification at the thought, but then it was all my own fault. I should have known better than to have ever thought that he had changed. I was supposed to be the smart one and yet I had been completely sucked in by him. He had played me perfectly.

At least I wasn’t crying anymore. No, the tears had stopped a while ago. When I had left the library all those hours ago, I had fought so hard to keep the tears at bay, keeping my head down as I ran past the few people who were in the corridors.

It had been raining when I left detention so I couldn’t escape outside, meaning there was only one other place that I could go. Back in third year, when Ron, Harry and I had our first proper fight, I had discovered a secluded alcove of one of the top floors of the castle. It was down at the end of an unused corridor, meaning it was always secluded and quiet. It was a place I had visited many times throughout the years. Every time that Harry and Ron would stop speaking to me, when Ron and Lavender had first started going out and every other time that I needed some space and some peace to just me on my own and think, I had gone to that same alcove. And I once again found myself there again now.

I settled myself in my usual spot, on a window ledge at the left-hand side, with a view that overlooked the lake. Usually, I loved sitting on the stone ledge and watching life below. Seeing the people rushing about below heading to classes; secret conversations in corners as well as Hagrid pottering about at the edge of the forest.

But today was different. As I peered through the glass and looked to the world outside, it was awash with grey. Although it had stopped raining, it was one of those dull, overcast days where it looked like rain was never far away. As far as the eye could see the clouds rolled and tumbled in an ever-swirling mixture of all the many shades of grey, reminding me so much of the beautiful eyes that had been plaguing my thoughts ever since I had first peered into their enthralling depths. Dark greys, light greys and sunlit silvers twirled and spun together in an elegant dance, breaking for small moments to let the shining blue that was hidden underneath, peek through in a tiny splash of colour. Exactly like his eyes.

I knew I should stop, but I couldn’t seem to force my gaze away. It was those eyes that had first drawn me in. That had first forced me to look closer. It was only right that their memory should be my punishment now. My constant reminder of why I should never rely on my feelings alone. Feelings were nothing but traitors that forced you to make stupid decisions and I would do well to remember it.

After a long while my tears finally stopped, and I was left feeling nothing but complete and utter embarrassment and shame, wondering how I was ever going to face the others again. What they would say when they found out how stupid I had been.

But that embarrassment and shame was soon overtaken by a new emotion. Anger. Quickly followed by complete and utter fury. Furious with him but mostly furious with myself for believing it all.

I didn’t know how long I sat there for, with my head resting against the cool glass, staring at the swirling shades of grey in the sky above, but I was certainly in no hurry to move, perfectly happy sitting there, hiding from everyone.

I groaned in annoyance when I heard the sound of footsteps coming along the corridor and disturbing my peace and solitude. Logically there was only person that it could be. Only one person who had the means to find me here. Knowing that I would have to face him sooner or later, I reluctantly lifted my head, fully expecting to come face to face with Harry holding the Marauders Map, which is why I was so stunned to find that it wasn’t Harry, but the last person in the world that I ever wanted to see.

‘So, this is where you’re hiding,’ he said in his familiar drawl, putting his wand back into his robes before he leaned casually against the wall at the entrance to the alcove, folding his arms in front of his chest. Our eyes clashed for one long angry moment, the air was sucked out of the room and a black writhing mass of fury settled low inside my stomach.

Without saying a word I grabbed my bag and marched over, making a move to get past him but he swiftly sidestepped to block my exit.

‘Get out of my way,’ I said slowly, fury emanating out of every syllable I uttered.

‘I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.’

I stopped in my movements and glared up at him. ‘Like you even care.’

‘Of course I care.’

‘Just fuck off, Malfoy,’ I told him, enjoying how he flinched as I reverted to calling him Malfoy.

He shook his head and angry confusion filled his grey eyes. ‘Not until you tell me what is going on.’

Once again, I made a move to get past him, but he was not only quicker than me, but also considerably stronger and he didn’t even move an inch when I tried to push past him.

‘Get out of my way,’ I screeched up at him, trying to push past him once more, but failing miserably as he stood his ground. He may have bought his way onto the Quidditch team, but he did have lightning quick reflexes and I knew that there was no way I was going to get past him.

‘Not until you tell me what your problem is,’ he hissed back at me through clenched teeth, his voice low. He leaned forward as he spoke, and I swear I saw concern in his gaze. Concern that I now knew was all a lie. I suddenly realised how close he was to me. Or how close I was to him. We had been in this situation before. Only a few hours before and I felt that same spark steal my breath. But I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Needing to get away, I tried again to push past him but as I failed again, I felt the panic and claustrophobia build within me and I lashed out, pushing and hitting and clawing at him, desperate to be free, before I bought into lies once more.

‘Granger, stop!’ he growled flinching with my blows but standing his ground. ‘Granger!’ he repeated as I continued my attack. ‘Hermione!’ he said and my name stopped me in my tracks like a tranquiliser making me stumble back and away from him. Draco Malfoy had never once used my name before. Not once. It had always been ‘Granger’ or ‘mudblood’ or just simply ‘her’. Not once in all of that time I had known him had he ever called me by my name and there was no way that I was going to let him start now.

‘No!’ I whirled around to face him, my face awash with fury. ‘You do not get to call me that. Only my friends get to call me that.’

‘Is that not what I am?’ It was a simple question and I could almost imagine that I could see traces of hurt in his eyes, but I knew better.

At my silence his eyes filled with darkness but the question still lingered in them. ‘Forgive me,’ he said with a definite edge to his tone, ‘but I had assumed that after recent events that things had changed between us.’

I scoffed, folding my arms putting up a physical barrier between us before answering him in my coldest tone. ‘A Slytherin will never be friends with a Gryffindor. A pureblood like you will never be friends with a mudblood like me. You Draco Malfoy are incapable of change.’

He closed his eyes suddenly as I uttered that word, as if it pained him to hear it. All it did was anger me even more.

‘Please, don’t say that,’ he groaned, taking a step closer towards me, but stopping as I recoiled away, ‘I have changed. You know must know that.’

‘No, I thought you had, but now I know for sure that you’re the same old Malfoy that you’ve always been.’

‘You know that that’s not true,’ he said, his eyes soft and pleading. I turned my head away so that I couldn’t see them.

‘Of course it’s true. What happened in the library just proved that it’s true. You think that I’m beneath you. You’re a Slytherin, a pure blood and I’m just a filthy mudblood and that is never going to change.’ The anger had left my voice with sadness creeping in, no matter how hard I tried to fight it.

‘I never called you that,’ he rushed to say. ‘I don’t think of you like that anymore.’

‘No, you never said it,’ I conceded with a defeated sigh. ‘You just stood by though, agreeing with everything that she said.’ My voice cracked with emotion and hurt at the memory.

‘I wasn’t agreeing with her,’ he said adamantly.

‘I saw you, Draco,‘I said and instantly cringed that I had used his name so easily. ‘You stood there beside her, smirking, agreeing with every word she said.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ he argued, his hands flying up in agitation.

‘You know what that’s not even what matters, actions speak louder than words, Malfoy,’ I said rather stubbornly not willing to back down. ‘And your actions or lack of them, said it all.’

‘And what exactly did you want me to do?’ he cried out in exasperation, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up slightly as he did. ‘You were the one that didn’t want to be seen anywhere near me. You’re the one who was so concerned about how everyone would react to us being friends. Make up your bloody mind. If you want me to defend you then I will gladly do it, but I thought you wouldn’t want me defending you. I didn’t think you’d want people to know about whatever this is. ’ He dropped his gaze to the carpet, his eyes determinedly not meeting mine.

‘When did I say that I didn’t want to be seen anywhere near you?’ I asked bewildered, curiosity momentarily replacing my anger.

‘Oh, come off it, Hermione.’ His eyes flashed again as they met mine. ‘I know you’re smarter than me, but I am not idiot. I saw the way you reacted when we were coming back from the lake. When you thought people would see us together.’

It was my turn to look away. I had hoped he hadn’t seen that. Even now I could see the hurt that was in his face, even if he was trying hard to show that it wasn’t bothering him.

‘I… that’s not… that’s beside the point and as it turns out, I was right not to want you anywhere near me.’ I was clutching now. Trying to find something to fuel and reignite my anger. I needed to be angry at him.

‘Why, what have I done wrong?’ he demanded, ‘Tell me one thing that I have done to make you not trust me since we came back to Hogwarts?’ He took a step towards me as he found some confidence, sensing my anger fading.

‘Well there was… when you…’ I trailed off again, as I watched his eyebrows raise in victory. Why could I not think of anything? Surely he must have done something, but my mind was blank and what’s more he knew it.

‘So if I haven’t done anything wrong, then what is the problem?’ He clearly sensed weakness in my hesitation and took another step, closing the distance between us.

I had nothing. I had no reply. He was right. He hadn’t done anything to me since we had come back to Hogwarts. If anything, he had been there for me more than some of the others had been. He had certainly been there for me more than Ron had and that thought unsettled me. Yes, he may have changed, but I still didn’t understand why and I still certainly didn’t understand why he was singling me out as someone that he wanted to be friends with. All of the conversations that we had, the looks, the glances, I just didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand him and I didn’t like it.

‘There isn’t a problem,’ I sighed in reply, yet not quite able to meet his eyes.

‘And yet something tells me that’s not quite true.’

I took a quick glance up at him, to find that he was staring straight at me, as if he could try and read my mind and work out what I was thinking, but when I tore my gaze away to look back at the floor, he stepped in close to me, forcing my gaze back to his. ‘Just tell me,’ he commanded, his voice low and I was helpless to resist.

‘I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you’re here,’ I cried out, my emotions getting the better of me.

‘I came to see if you were alright,’ he said, still sounding confused, not understanding what I was meaning.

‘Exactly! That’s what I don’t understand. You’ve never liked me and then all of a sudden you’re actually wanting to have conversations with me and saying all of these things and making me think that you…’ I stopped abruptly, stopping myself just in time, ‘I just don’t get it,’ I finished lamely.

‘Making you think that I what?’ he questioned, stepping closer to me again so that I had to tilt my head back to look at him. Of course he would have picked up on that part. There really was no hiding anything from him.

‘Nothing,’ I said raising my head determinedly, my mouth set in a hard line. There was no way that I was going to tell him what I had been about to say.

His eyes still held the questions, but I was grateful when he didn’t push it. ‘Well do you want me to stop, talking to you? Because I will if that’s what you want.’

I looked up into his face that was, at the moment looking decidedly like a little puppy that had just been given into trouble. If he’d had floppy ears, I swear they would have just drooped. I turned and sat back down on the window ledge, trying to create some distance between us. I needed a minute to think about what he was saying. Did I want him to stop talking to me? For things to be like they had been before. For us just to ignore each other and pretend like we didn’t know all of these things about each other. My stomach shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

‘No.’ I answered simply. I didn’t want things to go back to how they had been. I wasn’t sure if we would ever be able to go back to how things had been before and I wasn’t really sure that I wanted them to.

He looked up, looking almost disbelieving, almost hopeful. ‘You don’t want me to stop talking to you.’

‘Don’t ask me why, but no I don’t,’ I said quietly looking back at him.

For a moment, I wondered if he had heard what I said, but when he nodded his head slowly I knew that he had and I could swear that there was almost a trace of a smile in his lips. He visibly relaxed and closed the distance between us once more, resting against the wall beside me seat.

‘So why did you run away then? I mean it was only Pansy.’ He shrugged, looking down at me once more.

‘And that makes it better then, it was only Pansy so of course I should let her insult me and call me a mudblood.’ I gritted my teeth again in annoyance. Just when I thought we were getting somewhere.

‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ he answered in frustration. ‘I mean usually if she, or even if I called you any name you would just look at us like we were beneath you, like our words meant absolutely nothing.’ His lips turned up into a wry smile. ‘Or else you would come up with some absolutely scathing retort before walking away without even blinking. It used to drive me crazy.’

‘I don’t give a damn about what Pansy said,’ I said, spitting her name, ‘I don’t care about what she thinks about me.’

‘So then why run away?’ he challenged.

‘I wasn’t running from her,’ I cried out, without thinking.

‘Well then why did you…’

‘You! It was because of you,’ I blurted out in exasperation.

‘Me? I don’t…’ he shook his head confused.

‘Because you told me that you’d changed and I believed it and then you... it seemed like you agreed with her and I just…’ I trailed off as I felt that mortifying sting of tears. Turning away I slumped back onto the window ledge, burying my face in my hands.

I heard his slow movements and I was aware that he was standing in front of me when I felt his heat surrounding me. I lowered my hands to see that he had he crouched down, so that he was balancing on the tips of his toes, one hand still resting on the stone wall beside me for support. Forcing me to look at him, to meet his gaze whether I wanted to or not.

‘Hermione, I have changed. I don’t ever want to hurt you or anyone else again. I promise you that I will never call you a… that word again. That is not how I think of you anymore. I haven’t thought about you that way for quite a while.’

‘You used to,’ I said quietly, ‘you used to go out of your way to try and be mean to me.

‘No, actually I didn’t. Well, I mean I did, sometimes. You were infuriatingly perfect all of the time, but it was much more fun to wind up Potter and Weasley. They would always flip and it was funny to see their reactions, but you would just walk away. I think I only really got to you once or twice.’

‘Yes, that would be the time when I slapped you,’ I said smiling widely at the memory.

‘You don’t need to look quite so happy about it,’ he grumbled, looking a bit put out.

‘Well you deserved it.’ I couldn’t keep the smile tugging at my lips at the memory.

‘Perhaps. But you didn’t need to hit quite that hard.’

‘Aw, did I hurt you,’ I asked in a teasing voice.

‘I had a hand print on my face for hours after.’ He rubbed his hand along his jaw as if reliving the memory. ‘I had to hide in the dormitory and pretend that I was sick just so no one would know that I’d been slapped silly.’

‘Seriously?’ I said, thinking of how proud Ron and Harry would be. ‘I would say that I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that would be a lie.’

‘Yeah I know and you’re right I did deserve it,’ he conceded, smiling up at me. I had to tear my gaze away before I got drawn in again.

I cleared my throat, trying to ease the awkwardness that has descended over us. ‘How did you even find me here?’

‘A tracking spell. That reminds me, you left your quill in the library.’ He pulled out the red feather quill that Harry had given me for my birthday and held it out towards me.

I took it from his outstretched hand. ‘You tracked me with my quill?’ I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.

‘It’s easy enough to do as long as you have something belonging to the person.’

‘Well that’s not creepy at all.’

He simply grinned up at me. ‘I like to think of it as resourceful.’

‘Come on, budge up. My knees sore from kneeling on the floor.’ He stood up looking at me expectantly. I was looking at him wide eyed and mouth hanging open in surprise.

Without knowing what I was doing or why I was doing it, I slid up to the furthest end of the window ledge. It was wide enough for two people, but only just and as he sat down, I became very aware of just how close he was to me. His arm brushed by mine as he sat down and I felt a thrill shoot through me. I immediately scolded myself for it, reminding myself that it was Draco Malfoy that was sitting beside me.

I lapsed into another silence, wondering how I had once again found myself in another situation where I was alone with Draco Malfoy.

‘What are you thinking?’ Draco asked, after I had lapsed into a silence. I looked at him, deciding whether or not to answer him truthfully. I didn’t want to doubt him, strangely I didn’t want to hurt him, but I did want an answer. I had to know. As Harry had said, I was curious and if I didn’t ask, I would sit wondering about it until I got a definite answer.

‘Draco, why have you changed?’

His head shot back away from me and his eyes flashed with an emotion that I couldn’t determine. Was it anger, annoyance, disappointment, regret even?

‘Never mind, you don’t have to tell me,’ I added quickly. It was a rather personal question after all.

‘No, it’s fine. I think I want to. I want you to understand.’ His eyes had softened and I let out the breath that I had been holding. He stayed silent and for a moment I wondered if he was actually going to tell me the truth or was he making up a story to tell me or editing the truth into something that sounded better. Eventually he took a deep breath as if to prepare himself and then continued, ‘I guess in the end I just realised that we’re all the same. Purebloods or muggleborns; what’s the difference?

I nodded back him, trying not to let my disappointment show. I had thought he was actually going to tell me the truth, not some spun out line that he felt he had to say. That’s why I was surprised when he continued.

‘Do you remember Professor Burbage?’

I nodded in reply, slightly confused as to how why he would bring her up now. She had taught me in third year; when I had felt the insane need to take every single subject that Hogwarts had to offer. I hadn’t seen much of her since then, after dropping the subject, but I knew that she had been one of the many to disappear during the war without a trace. I didn’t even know that Draco had even been aware of who she was.

‘Well, he killed her, right of front of me.’ I took in a shocked gasp, that I knew he must have heard, as he glanced quickly in my direction before he subtly shifted as far away from me as he could, pressing himself further into the stone wall. He continued to look at his hands as he continued. ‘By then I already knew I was on the wrong side. I mean I couldn’t kill Dumbledore and what they did, bringing Greyback into the school where he could have attacked anyone and seeing Aunt Bella just going crazy, destroying everything, destroying the great hall, bringing them all back into my home, I already knew that I was in over my head. That I wasn’t one of them. That I couldn’t be one of them.’

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, watching every emotion on his face. I watched so carefully to see if there was any hint of falseness in his story, but all I could hear was the truth. I would have been satisfied with that answer, but there seemed to be more as he continued to wring his hands together and I listened patiently for him to continue.

‘Anyway it was during the summer and all of the death eaters were staying at our house. Our punishment for failing him. So one day he called a meeting and… he tortured Professor Burbage and then he had her suspended over the table. We all had to sit around and just watch her hanging there like she was some sort of amusement, some sort of plaything. She was as close to me as you are now. She couldn’t move. Her hands were tied behind her back and it was like she was screaming in pain, but no sound came out. I’ll never forget the look she had in her eyes. Tears were streaming down her face and I kept watching as they dropped onto the table. She was begging for help, but what could we do. What could anyone do?’

He closed his eyes briefly, as a deadened look appeared in them and then pulled his hand through his hair again. My eyes were brimming with tears, horrified at what I was hearing. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I couldn’t move. I felt sick. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to know what happened next. I could imagine it well enough, but I couldn’t stop him. I could only sit and listen.

‘She was begging Professor Snape to help her, pleading with him, but he couldn’t do anything. He just had to sit there and watch. Then he killed her,’ he snapped his fingers in a loud click and I jumped at the noise. ‘Just like that. She fell down onto the table, right in front of me. He said all this crap about dangerous she was and how she threatened our very existence, yet all I could see was an innocent woman, completely harmless. She was a teacher. She just wanted to help people and he killed her like she was nothing. Then he called Nagini and made us all sit there, as…’ he trailed off unable to say the words, looking very much like he was going to throw up.

I gripped the edge of the window ledge tightly, closing my eyes in a futile attempt at blocking out his words, practically begging him not to continue. I could imagine very well what that monstrous snake had done. If Malfoy was sickened by it, then I was certain that it was an image that I did not need in my own head. I had had my own personal encounter with that snake and I did not need to add to the memories. As my eyes blinked close, the tears I had been trying to keep at bay fell down my cheeks. I may not have known Professor Burbage very well, but I wasn’t crying just for her, I was crying for of all the innocent people who would have died just as needlessly and cruelly as she had. I was also crying for the broken boy beside me who seemed unable to forgive himself for something that he had no control over.

‘I think I knew before then, but that’s the moment that I knew that I couldn’t do it anymore. That I had to change,’ he said finally looking up at me, not even looking surprised at my tears, perhaps not even registering them. ‘That’s the moment that I realised that I wanted nothing more to do with the lot of them. That I couldn’t do what they asked me to do. That I couldn’t hurt and kill muggles just because he told me to. Seeing the look in her eyes, I never want to see that look again. I never want anyone to look that way because of me.’

He looked at me, straight into my eyes and as I looked at him, it was if an unspoken message was being passed between us. I was trying, despite my tears to let him know that it was okay, that I didn’t blame him and that I knew it wasn’t his fault. A strange expression appeared on his face as he looked into my eyes and he broke away suddenly, taking a deep breath and sitting up straighter, recovering himself. I mirrored his actions, leaning further away from him and taking the opportunity to wipe the tears from my face.

‘I thought about you nearly every day that year,’ he whispered, turning to look at me once more. ‘You, Potter and unfortunately Weasley. I kept thinking about what you were doing and what you were up to and just hoping that you had found something to destroy him. Then you turned up the manor. It was one of the scariest moments that I’ve ever had. I was so sure that you were all going to die and there was nothing that I could do to stop it.’

‘But you did stop it. You could have said something the moment that we walked in who we were. You knew it was us. You knew that it was Ron and I and so you knew that it was Harry who was right in front of you and yet you said nothing. You wouldn’t even look at us. If you had told them then we would have died. We owe you everything.’

‘Don’t try to make me the hero,’ he cried, half in anger and half in anguish, before turning away from me and hiding his face once more. I sat and stared at him stunned. He really couldn’t see that what he had done was good. He really couldn’t see that about himself and the thought made me sad for him.

‘What you did was brave.’ I watched as his jaw tightened and even though I couldn’t see his facial expression, I could tell that my words were upsetting him but I just wanted him to realise what he had done, I wanted to see his face, I wanted him to turn around and look at me. Slowly I reached out and gently touched one of his hands, brushing my fingers over his the back of his hand. He immediately tensed and whipped his head around in shock when he felt my touch, but he stayed firmly in place, his hand underneath mine. His gaze lingered on our hands for a moment, swallowing hard before looking back up at me, with a wary look in his eyes. ‘You saved me that night. I owe you my life. And so do Harry and Ron.’

He looked hard into my eyes, his face devoid of all emotion as he processed my words. For another long moment he said nothing, sitting as still as a statue before a wry smile appeared on his lips, causing me to let out a breath of relief. ‘I bet Weasley and Potter don’t see it that way, but I have to say I like the idea of Weasley owing me.’

‘Well, regardless, he does.’ I cocked my head to the side in a thoughtful gesture. ‘But you’re right I wouldn’t go saying that to him just yet.’ I smile at the thought of Draco telling Ron that he owed him. It would not be pretty.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway, you saved me in the room of the requirement and again later that night, so actually I’m still in your debt,’ he said, a trace of amusement in his eyes.

‘Hmm, interesting,’ I said, pretending to mull over this new information. I was so glad that he was back to being in a good mood. His mood swings were hard to keep up with; he would go from being sweet, to aloof, to so completely and utterly despondent. Part of me could understand. My own emotions had been so up and down lately too.

‘And how do you plan to repay me?’ I said turning around to face him, planning on teasing him some more, hoping that I could make him laugh. Only as I turned my head I found that he had leaned forward; his face much closer to mine than I had realised. I was so close that I could see every fleck of blue swimming amongst the shining silver in his eyes. I was so close that our noses were only a few centimetres apart. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face.

‘I’m sure I’ll find a way.’ His voice was soft, his eyes were gentle, yet intensely tracing over each and every feature of my face once more. I felt like I couldn’t move as I watched him. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like every breath was a lifeline, keeping me alive. I was sure I was breathing so loudly that he must be able to hear it. He must know how much his proximity was affecting me. How my blood was racing; how my heart was pounding in my chest; how my stomach was twisted with knots; how my brain was a muddle, filled with only one thought, that I wanted him to kiss me.

As if he could read my thoughts, as if they were written in the eyes that he was intensely studying, he leaned in slightly. As his forehead rested against mine, his eyes flicked down to my parted lips before his gaze flicked back to mine, assessing my reaction, checking that I wasn’t going to run away. Then ever so slowly, he tilted his head to the side and continued his decent. That moment felt like an eternity and my breathing hitched as his lips brushed lightly over mine.

In that moment, it seemed like the world had stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I closed my eyes for the briefest second, losing myself completely in his touch. All I could think of was how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him. How much I wanted Draco Malfoy to kiss me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to comment, kudos or bookmark. It means a lot.


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